


Part One: Realization

by satanchangedmypresets



Series: Savior [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Gen, Hurt Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Purgatory, Protective Dean Winchester, Slash, Smut, Team Free Will, WIP, sub!cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-05
Updated: 2012-10-05
Packaged: 2017-11-15 16:20:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 39,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/529217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/satanchangedmypresets/pseuds/satanchangedmypresets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set approximately two years after Season 7, Dean and Castiel have escaped Purgatory, Sam continues to hunt with Dean, and Bobby is mysteriously alive. Dean comes to terms with his attraction to his angelic best friend while trying to find a way to save Castiel from an angelic poison that is slowly killing him.</p><p> </p><p>Rating: R, NC-17</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Unexpected Dream

**  
**

The world turned, bones broke, the sky fell, and the world turned again. It turned on warriors and cowards, heroes and villains alike, but this time it turned on someone who was perhaps a mix of the two. For if a man does great evil in the name of great good, what does that make him? 

It had been two years since Purgatory, two years since a boy turned a world that wanted to spit him out upside down to find his angel, and still couldn't put the pieces of his own heart together long enough to understand it. Two years, two years that were two hundred and forty years for the angel at his side, ever watchful, ever waiting. Together they had faced the darkest sides of the world and of each other, but something else was moving in the darkness, moving towards them with ever growing certainty.

Well, this is getting a bit pretentious isn't it? Oh sure, I'm certain some stories begin with great claps of thunder and lightning and booming voices from the sky, and I could begin this story so many cliched ways. 

Oh, it's about a boy and his angel. (Technically it's about three boys and their angels.)

It's about saving the world and stopping the Apocalypse. 

It's about true love conquering all. 

So frankly, it's about a lot of things, but it doesn't start with lightning striking, or an angelic chorus, or two lovestruck idiots staring at each other until they finally realize there is absolutely  _nothing_ keeping them apart but their own stupidity. It starts with something far more simple, far more basic, instinctual. 

It starts with a sex dream. 

\--

_The light pooled through the trees, dappling the ground softly and turning the forest into an estranged wonderland. He could hear the babbling of a brook nearby, the soft crunch of leaves that could be a deer…or a Wendigo._

_“There are no such things here.”_

_Dean spun around before letting his shoulders drop, his racing heart slowing at the sudden sight of Castiel just behind him. His relief was mixed with something else, a strange something that made him feel like he was not only glad that it was_ just _Castiel, but glad that it was Castiel here, with him. Where he should always and ever be. Of course, that wasn't what he could say, particularly since he could barely understand it himself._

_“Dammit, Cas, can’t I have a single dream to myself? What do you want now?”_

_Castiel looked around, his piercing gaze taking in their surroundings, and Dean wondered what Castiel might think about something as simple as the woods. Did he know the exact age of every tree? Could he hear the lightning-quick step of the squirrels hundreds of feet about their heads?_

_“_ _I’d like to think that our relationship has progressed so that if I needed to speak with you, I would not have to invade your dreams.”_

_The lines in Dean's face became more pronounced as his frown deepened, looking closer at the Castiel before him, and he shook his head to draw himself out of his own reverie. He took a step back without thinking, force of habit. The angel still had a thing to learn about personal space, but for some reason, when he moved back, something urged him to close the space between him and Castiel. Like even those few inches were miles. Dean had to take a deep breath, looking down for a moment to gather his thoughts._

_“So, you’re not_ in _my dream? I’m having a dream_ about _you?”_

_“It appears that way.”_

_Castiel's voice was soft, but he thought he heard a tinge of bitterness. Dean leaned forward, and Castiel simply looked right back at him. Though not facing him, Dean could feel the angel's piercing gaze on him, and wondered if the angel's eyes were always so blue, or if it was simply the dream.“Why would I have a dream_ about _you?”_

_Castiel's sigh was loud in the early morning mist, the angel shifting uncomfortably, finally looking away. “I assure you, I do not know.”_

_“That helps,” Dean tossed up his hands, turning on the spot. He was supposed to be sleeping, getting a reprieve from the angel's constant stare, not this. “Don’t I get enough of you during the day? Sleep is for sleeping and dreaming about half-naked women…”_

_Castiel glanced up at him, something flashing in his eyes, then focused on the ground between them, and Dean watched as the angel clenched his jaw, stepping back. “I see.”_

_“No, Cas…” Dean sighed, he hadn't meant to hurt the guy's feelings. “I didn’t mean it like that.”_

_Castiel looked up at him and something crossed his face for a moment, too fleeting for Dean to read it and he found himself stepping closer to the angel, trying to see what Cas didn’t want him to see. That urge was back, drawing him to close the ground between them, that any space was too much, and then he didn't have to worry about giving in because Cas was kissing him and nothing else mattered. The angel's hands rose, cupping the back of his head, his fingers playing with the dark curls at the base of Dean's neck that he tried to keep cut short lest someone joke about their lack of masculinity, and Dean groaned as he felt the heat coming off his friend, searing, familiar, safe. Home._

_Dean felt Cas push him back against a tree, his nimble hands already working at Dean’s belt and jeans. Dean felt his body responding before he could even work in a word of protest, why would he protest? This was Castiel, his Castiel, and this was where they belonged, pressed together, skin to skin. Cas was pushing his jeans and boxers down and Dean couldn’t stop himself from moaning against the angel’s lips._

_"God, Cas..." he gasped when Castiel pulled away from his lips._

_I’m sorry,” he heard Castiel whisper and then Castiel was kneeling before him, was he going to…?_

“Dean, wake up!”

Dean bolted awake, nearly falling off the shabby bed in the process. Sam gave him a look of relief, his entire body relaxing as he offered Dean a shaky smile from across the room, the laptop’s glow the only light in the room. Beyond the curtains it was still dark, and Dean glanced curiously at his brother, trying to determine if he'd been to sleep at all. Sam had a bad habit of staying up all night when they were working. Sighing, Dean stretched,  and reached across to turn on the bedside lamp. “What?” he asked groggily, wiping the thin line of drool from his chin.

“You were making weird noises. I thought you were having a nightmare.”

 _Probably not wrong._ Dean sighed, turning over onto his back and staring up at the ceiling. Okay, he admitted it. It had been a while since he got some, but he was almost forty years old. Forty-year old guys did not have sex dreams about their best friends. Their male best friends. Their celestiel-wavelength-of-intent-in-a-male-vessel best friends. Just...no. Why now anyway? He and Cas had fought side by side for so long now, he couldn't imagine not having the angel there. They'd been alone, or mostly alone, together for a year in Purgatory, and not a single twitch. 

“No…" Dean shook his head as he sat up. "Just a really weird dream.”

“Clowns or midgets?” Sam asked, his lips twitching in a quirky smile.

“Just...weirder.” Dean fought the urge to glare at his brother and instead walked over to the motel mini-fridge, grabbing a beer. “Find anything?”

“Yeah, actually.” Sam offered, turning back to the laptop. “Turns out there used to be schoolhouse on that hill outside of town. 30 kids plus the teacher burned down when some guys got drunk, locked them in, and set it on fire.”

Dean rubbed his face, unable to focus on what Sam was talking about with the images of his dream still fresh in his mind, unfazed. He tried, he really tried, but somehow the necessary information kept getting bogged down in blue eyes and a tan trenchcoat that fanned out behind him when he walked...like wings... _Why…Castiel?_

The mostly silent hotel room was suddenly full of the sound of flaring wings, and Sam looked away from his musing brother to see their own resident angel. Sam was personally glad to see him, after all the hell they'd been through for the past few years. Yeah, Castiel had broken his head some four years ago now, but Dean had pointed a gun at him too. Dean had kicked his ass while under the spell of a ghost coin, and he still loved his brother. Looking up fondly at Castiel, Sam smiled inwardly. He loved both of them.

“Hey Cas, what's up?” Sam smiled, wondering if Castiel would take the bait. 

Dean inwardly groaned, struggling to keep his face schooled as he raised his head, spotting the angel his brother had just addressed standing across the room.

"The roof of this motel," Castiel said simply, lifting his head. "Which seems to be one good rainstorm from collapsing. Perhaps you should seek residence elsewhere."

Dean clenched his jaw, wishing that Castiel could just _get it_ for once, completely missing the look of laughter that passed between his brother and the angel. 

“Do you need something?” Castiel asked, his gaze drifting from Sam to Dean as if drawn there. Dean couldn't help but meet the angel's eyes when they were on him with such force, and he found himself comparing them to dream-Castiel's eyes. They were every bit as blue as they had been in his dream, perhaps bluer. Or maybe it was just the light. 

Dean jumped when Sam spoke again and he looked over as Sam shook his head. “No, it’s turning into a typical ‘salt-and-burn.’ Why?”

“I thought I heard my name.”

Dean inwardly flinched as Sam looked at him, his eyes seeming to burn past the surface before slowly shaking his head. Dean took a deep breath and drained the rest of his beer.

“Yeah, that was me."

Castiel hadn't looked away from him, his brow furrowed, and Dean wondered if he could see just how awkward this was. That was, if the angel had any sense of what was awkward anymore. "I had this…really weird dream and you were there and…that wasn’t you, was it?”

“I would like to think our relationship has progressed to the point that if I needed to speak with you, I would not need to invade your dreams.”

Dean blinked, eyes widening briefly and his lips twitched in the beginnings of a smile. “Dream you said something really similar to that.”

“I assure you, it was not me.”

Dean nodded, laughing sheepishly. “I believe you. Just…if you get the urge, don’t.”

Castiel looked confused and for a moment, Dean thought he looked hurt, as if the idea that he would betray Dean’s trust like that was inconceivable. The same way he'd looked in his dream only moments before.

“No, Cas, I didn’t mean it like that.”

_No, Cas…I didn’t mean it like that._

_Castiel looked up at him and something crossed his face for a moment, too fleeting for Dean to read it and he found himself stepping closer to the angel, trying to see what Cas didn’t want him to see. Then Cas was kissing him and nothing else mattered..._

Dean swallowed, willing the images away. Castiel and Sam were both looking at him strangely and Dean found himself caught in Castiel's stare. His stomach twinged just as it had in the dream, the same way it had so many times before, but now Dean recognized it for what it was. Some bizarre mix of arousal, want, and _need_ to be closer to Castiel. It took a huge effort to pull his gaze from Castiel's, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves until the pull faded. “I’m, um, gonna check on the car.”

He slipped past Cas and headed out, the door slamming shut behind him. Cas had turned to watch him leave, his eyes sad. After a long moment, he blinked and looked to Sam.

“So I am not needed?”

“Not unless you want to help dig up a grave.”

"I can dig far more efficiently than either of you." Castiel murmured, touching Sam's shoulder. 

"That's okay, Cas." Sam smiled, his tone teasing. "Dean could use the workout." 

Sam turned partially, laying his hand over Castiel's. "Are you okay, Cas? You can stick around if you want, you don't have to keep bouncing around." 

Castiel gently squeezed Sam's shoulder. "I feel like I must be available if any of my brothers and sisters need me. More and more are coming to Earth to escape the chaos in Heaven, and they come to me for guidance. Unfortunately, they are intimidated by the Righteous Man and the Boy King."

"'Boy King.'" Sam laughed, shaking his head. "I guess that's better than the Boy with the Demon Blood."

Castiel smiled at Sam, once again squeezing his shoulder fondly before stretching his wings, disappearing with a quiet goodbye, and Sam turned back to emailing Bobby. 

Dean stood outside, leaning against the Impala. The cool metal was familiar, and he looked up at the sky. The brilliant blue was also familiar, the thrill of the road, the chase, the leather beneath his hands...all familiar. The taste of Castiel on his lips, the burn of his skin...that wasn't. He rubbed at his eyes. The dream hadn’t faded yet, it was still stark and clear in his mind. He could recall every detail, the feel of the trenchcoat under his hands as he tightened his grip, pulling Castiel into him. He shook his head, putting it out of his mind. It was just a weird dream, nothing else.

He was unaware that Castiel stood a few feet away, invisible to his human eyes. Castiel watched him torment himself over the dream, wishing he could catch more than the bare glimpses Dean’s psyche provided. He knew that Dean did not like it when he spied on his thoughts but Dean didn’t understand that trying to ignore a human’s thoughts, particularly one as emotional as he, was like trying to ignore a jet engine when standing directly next to one.

He wanted to say something, anything, but he couldn’t bear what Dean might say. Already Dean was putting it out of his mind, forgetting the idea, the possibility…

Castiel ran.

Across the world in an instant, Castiel found himself in the high peaks of the Himalayas, but he barely felt the cold. His tears froze on his cheeks as he shook, squeezing his eyes shut against the torrent of emotions pushing through him. How could any being bear this pain? To watch someone they love, to give everything for them, and to be dismissed so easily? He didn’t even know what Dean had dreamed about but that it had been about him and Dean did not want the dream to return. 

_Mate of mine...why do you isolate me?_

_\--_

Every night for the next couple weeks, Dean dreamed of Castiel. And not just _of_ Castiel, he dreamed of having sex with him. It varied in time and place and…position…but it was always Castiel. The angel always looked at him so possessively that he felt if another one of his dream lovers might try to encroach, the angel would send them to perdition in a handbag. What bothered Dean wasn’t that he was now randomly having sex dreams about a certain angel, but that he was now starting to look forward to them. They made sense to him in ways that they shouldn't, and he longed...ached...for Castiel's touch. The angel's absence was more pronounced, the ache deeper than it ever had been before. It was as if his soul had gotten a taste of what it was missing and wanted more.

So every night, he’d crawl into bed or try to catch a few hours in the back of the Impala while Sam drove, and sure enough before the night was over, Castiel would ride him. Or he’d ride Castiel. Now those were really interesting dreams as he wondered how the hell his subconscious came up with the sensations he was feeling. Or was he just imagining what angel dick felt like? He'd wake with the taste of Castiel on his lips, the searing heat of him still burning into his skin, and one morning he woke with his boxers sticking to his skin, wet with his release.

The worst part was he had a growing feeling that Castiel knew what was going on. The angel usually stopped by to check in on them at least a couple times a week and now he hadn’t been back in almost two. Not since that first dream, and Dean wondered if Castiel was avoiding him. No, he  _knew_ Castiel was avoiding him, and now that he knew what that ache was, he knew the constant twisting of his stomach wasn't diner food.

“I’m worried about Castiel,” Sam said softly one afternoon, seeing he was awake. Dean had been napping after a fourteen-hour drive. Though it had been light when he closed his eyes, the road was dark, lit only by their headlights and Dean sat up, rubbing his eyes and shifted the jacket he'd been sleeping under to drift inconspicuously into his lap.

“Hm?”

“Cas. He hasn’t been by lately. That’s not like him.”

“He’s an angel, Sam. Maybe he has angel stuff to do.”

“Maybe we should call him. Just to make sure he’s okay.”

“And how is that going to look, calling him for no reason? What if he _is_ busy?”

Sam sighed, wishing for once Dean could just let it go. “We went through this last time. Wouldn’t you rather know if something’s bothering him so that maybe we can help? Especially after all he’s done for us.”

Dean sighed, silently giving in to his brother’s logic. He was just nervous about facing the angel after the incessant dreams he’d been having.

“Sure. Whatever this job is, we’ll call him.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

\--

_Dear Castiel…we have a "bug" issue and we need…_

Dean’s voice reached him in the wind and he sought them out through the folds and faces of the world, finding them at Bobby’s. He appeared in the center of the room before Dean had even finished his sentence. For a moment, Castiel tried to determine how much time had passed since he’d last seen the boys. At least a week, possibly more; he lost track of time so easily here on earth when an instant could last hours. He looked at Sam who was explaining something to him then Bobby spoke and none of it seemed important, because Dean interrupted them both.

“Dude…you’re covered in ice.”

Castiel looked down, the snow from his jacket melting into a puddle on the floor. “Yes, it was…cold…where I was.”

Dean looked confused and Sam sighed, shaking his head at his brother, before stepping forward, drawing Castiel's attention to him. “We could use your help, Cas.”

“Yes, of course,” Castiel agreed, not even sure to what he was agreeing. “What do you need me to do?”

Dean clapped him on the shoulder. “Kick door in. Kill monster.”

“Yes, of course.” Castiel nodded, smiling as Sam glared at his brother. 

They’d spent the past few months picking off the last remaining demons that had come through the gate.  He wondered how the boys would take the decrease in mortal peril, sliding back into the mundane jobs they’d started out doing. Like tonight, hunting down a mogget and her nest. A swarm of her young could easily kill the boys, but Castiel was immune to her poison. He didn't mind behind their shield. He preferred it, actually.

He rode in the backseat of the Impala quietly. Sam was discussing their plan. Attack from three fronts, burn it all down. Castiel would follow Outside, Sam was all business but on the inside, he was wondering the same thing Castiel was. What would they do when tracking down demons wasn’t so easy? When a demonic possession was the rarity, not the commonplace? He turned to Dean, wondering what he was thinking about the situation. He got a lot more than he expected.

_Their naked bodies entwined, flesh against flesh, skin slick with sweat. He reached up, tangling his hands in black hair, pulling his lover down to his lips. He groaned softly, exploring his lover’s mouth with his tongue. His lover arched against him and he ran his hands over the firm, distinctly male chest…feeling the scars from the battle so long ago, so familiar…_

_“Castiel…”_

Castiel was suddenly aware he was staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the back of Dean’s head. Dean shook his head, unaware of the attention, and continued driving.

_Great, now Cas is back and I still don’t know why I keep dreaming about having sex with him. And great, now I’ve got a boner. Hope Sam doesn’t notice._

Castiel barely suppressed a whimper. Luckily, Sam was paying more attention to the road than his brother’s…new erection. But Dean…Dean was dreaming about him. Had been. Repeatedly. How long had he been gone? How often did Dean dream of him?

After all this time, all these years thinking it wouldn't, couldn't be...Dean wanted him. 

The proof was in Dean himself and Castiel felt strangely giddy with relief. After all this time, all those years of hiding his affection for Dean, always fighting, always there…even if it was only sexual, for however short a time it lasted, there was a chance he could know what it was like to love Dean Winchester and be loved in return. There was hope, that if Dean gave in and loved him, their bond could be awoken. 

These thoughts plagued Castiel as he walked through the nest, setting fire to the mogget's eggs with bored precision. After his first face to face encounter with Dean, he hadn't dared let himself dream. He hadn't dared, and yet...here he was.

After they’d burned down the mogget’s nest, Dean and Sam decided not to waste what they called a ‘beautiful summer night’ and sleep outside. They built a small fire a little ways away from the road, the Impala parked beneath a tree, and they sat around for a little while, roasting hot dogs over the open flame. Sam and Dean joked, telling stories to Cas about each other, more for each other than for him since he was paying little attention. He was more amazed at how in depth the human mind could be. Dean would be retelling something he and Sam did as children, but thinking about how he almost lost Sam to Lucifer. For Sam, it was the same. They relived their worst memories as they told their happiest, reveling in the fact that they were still together.

After a while, the stories died and they listened to the sound of the woods around them: soft crickets, the snap of a twig beneath a deer’s hoof, and the nearly silent flutter of wings in the night.

_Well, he is kinda attractive in that rugged…soft…kind of way…his skin looks soft, kinda glow-y against the fire…_

It took all Castiel had not to stiffen in sudden awareness that he was being “checked out” by Dean. He actually took a moment to verify that Sam was asleep and it was definitely not Sam’s thoughts he was hearing.

_There are definitely worse angels I could have a crush on. Doesn’t make this any less weird._

Feeling strangely devious, Castiel sighed as if he were worn from the day and unaware that Dean was still awake. He pointedly didn’t look towards Dean but pulled off the tan overcoat, letting it slouch to the ground behind him. He slowly untied the blue tie and unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt. He gave a soft groan, rubbing the back of his neck as if sore and stretched his head to one side, letting his hand slip slowly, casually, down his chest.

_….damn…_

Castiel ‘casually’ noticed Dean watching him. “You can sleep, Dean. I will keep watch. No harm will come to you tonight.”

 _….right_ …

“Yeah, night, Cas.”

Cas resumed his silent watch of nothing as Dean rolled over, pulling his jacket over himself. Shortly, he fell asleep. Then the real fun began.

At first Dean’s dreams were as normal as they could be, fleeting instants of vague memories or conjured oddities and Castiel shadowed them all, hoping, daring for a glimpse of what Dean saw of him. Then he found himself looked at a copy of the very evening they had just finished. Himself, Sam, and Dean all curled up around the fire. He watched as Dean remembered the way he’d attempted a seductive pass, letting the coat slip from his shoulders, unbuttoning his shirt. He heard himself say again…

“You can sleep, Dean. I will keep watch. No harm will come to you tonight.”

But this time, Dean, or rather his dream self, got to his feet. “You should watch yourself, not me.”

Then Dean was pushing him to the ground, buttons popping as he tore the angel’s shirt open, kissing him roughly. Castiel saw himself respond in kind, pulling Dean’s shirt over his head, running his hands down Dean’s chest and Castiel was suddenly firmly aware that he was jealous…of himself. Dean was working on his belt and slid a hand down the front of dream Castiel’s pants and the real Castiel gave a petulant whimper.

Dean froze, looking off into the woods, down at Sam, then back out into the woods. Castiel jerked himself out of the dream as quickly as he could, in his haste he overcompensated for the physical return and ended up flat on his back, toppled over the log he’d been sitting on.

“Cas?” he heard Dean’s sleepy voice. “Cas, are you okay?”

Cas started to sit up then became aware that Dean was kneeling over him and he was suddenly rendered speechless. Dean seemed to have noticed the similarity between his dream and the now reality and they lay there, staring at one another.

_I could kiss him. I could kiss him right now and no one would know. Well, except me. And him. And he’d probably smite me or something. But I could. Right now._

Castiel stared, trying not to look hopeful…or eager…or desperate. _Do it, Dean. Do it. Kiss me. Kiss me please. Do it._

“Cas…”

“I am fine, Dean. You should rest.”

“Right…”

Dean looked at him, confused, before he went back to his side of the fire. Castiel was suddenly aware of how hard his heart was pounding. 

\--

 


	2. Losing You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean, Sam, and Castiel go to a nearby town to take down some demons, but the night quickly goes sour.

Castiel stayed up the remainder of the night, watching over the Winchesters as they slept. It was shortly before dawn when Sam was woken by the buzzing of his cell phone. Castiel took the moment to disappear to the next town over, stopping at a diner and buying breakfast for the boys with some of the cash left in Jimmy’s wallet.

By the time the food was ready, the boys were on the road, heading south. Castiel steered himself to the back seat of the Impala.

“Good morning.”

Sam jumped in his seat and Dean swerved slightly but got the car back under control.

“Cas! Where the hell did you go?”

Castiel held up the bag as offering. “Breakfast?”

“Awesome, I’m starved.”

Castiel almost laughed at the way Dean reached for the bag. Sam took it from him, divvying up what he had bought.

“Cas, there’s only enough for two,”

“I do not need to eat,” The angel said softly, oddly content with his morning. He was an angel of the Lord in the backseat of a ’67 Impala, trailing two human hunters like a pet dog, was highly considering sleeping with one of them, and it was probably one of the best mornings he’d had in a long time.

“Cas,” Sam asked quietly. “Are you okay?” Castiel realized he had a stupid quiet smile on his face as he watched the world pass by through the window. He turned to Sam, still smiling.

“I am okay.” He said firmly, nodding with the same quiet smile, and turning back to the window.

Dean was happily shoveling down his sandwich but Sam sighed. “Well, Bobby called, he thinks there might be some demon activity a couple states over. Are you coming?”

Castiel smiled. “It sounds like fun.”

Sam nodded, still watching him oddly.

_Cas seems different today. He actually looks…happy._

Cas’ smile grew ever so slightly. He was happy. Sam opened his laptop to do research and Dean turned on the radio. Cas let his head rest against the window, watching the scenery as it passed by.

Hours passed and the miles with them and if not for Dean’s singing, it would’ve been quiet.

“Cas, I don’t think you’ve ever ridden along with us this long. Like, actually in the car.”

Cas lifted his head from the window, looking up into the mirror at Dean. “I can leave.”

“No!” Dean said quickly, shaking his head. “No, it’s actually…kinda nice. I just didn’t think…you used to complain about car rides.”

Cas looked out the window, thoughtful for a moment. “I think it is peaceful now. So much of my life has happened so fast. It is nice to simply sit and be.”

Dean nodded. “Sounds nice.”

“I also do this more often than you realize though usually without company. Or I used to.”

Dean glanced at him in the mirror. _Used to?_

“You okay, Cas?”

“You keep asking me that.” Castiel answered with a smile.

“Are you?”

Castiel’s smile grew a bit broader. “Yes.”

“Well, there’s definitely a demon there, maybe more.” Sam interrupted. “There’s demonic omens all over the town. We’ll have to scope it out once we get there but…”

“I will find it.” Castiel said shortly and a moment later the backseat was empty.

Dean sighed, settling back into his seat and Sam cut the music down.

“What’s up with Cas?”

Dean glanced over at his brother. “What do you mean?”

“He seems…happy.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No, not necessarily,” Sam tried to explain, wondering why Dean was suddenly defensive. “It’s just not…Cas. Normal for him is neutral. I don’t think we’ve seen him actually happy when he wasn’t like…under influence of something or someone.”

Dean shrugged. “Why do we have to give him the third degree because he’s happy? Maybe he’s just happy.”

Sam sighed. “Forget it.”

“I’m just saying, just because it’s not natural doesn’t mean it’s supernatural.”

“No,” Sam laughed. “There’s nothing supernatural about an angel of the Lord who can fly, teleport, and waste demons with his bare hands.”

“Nope, not at all.” Dean teased good-naturedly.

“Shut up,” Sam laughed.

* * *

It didn’t take Castiel long to figure out where the demons were hiding. There were eight of them, low level demons banded together in an effort to withstand the force of hunters sweeping across the nation in the wake of the apocalypse. He did a quick survey of the land and warehouse. They didn’t even sense him moving among them and then he headed back to find the Winchesters at a gas station on the edge of town. The sun was beginning to set and Dean was topping off the Impala’s tank.

“They are at a warehouse on the south side of town.”

Dean jumped, spinning around. “Cas, when you poof back, can you aim a little bit further back? It is creepy when you pop up right behind me.”

“Yes, I see.” Castiel agreed.

“Now what were you saying about the demons?”

Sam walked up behind Dean, looking up from his purchases to see Castiel had rejoined them.

“They are stationing themselves in a warehouse on the south side of town. There are eight low-level demons. They did not notice my surveillance. I can take you there.”

“Well, let’s find some place to stay first.” Sam suggested  as Cas reached towards them and Dean nodded, the two of them piling back into the car. Castiel sighed, he was itching to get to the battle.

 _For once I want to sleep in a bed that isn’t infested with…something._ It was Sam complaining. Dean was singing song lyrics in his head to the beat he tapped on the steering wheel.

“Come on, Cas!”

Castiel sighed again, slipping into the back seat. “As you wish.”

He closed the door behind him, tapping his fingers on his knee as he looked straight forward.

_Looks like Cas is back to normal._

Dean’s thoughts were quiet…but sad.

* * *

They got a motel room and Castiel led them to the warehouse. They were quiet now and Castiel surveyed their surroundings as Dean and Sam loaded up on weapons from the trunk, making sure each gun was fully loaded. Dean slid the knife into his belt and Sam tucked the Colt into his waistband. Castiel looked back at them, suddenly aware of his fondness for the brothers and what he would do to protect them.

“Sam, go around the north side. There will be a staircase leading to the catwalks. There are three keeping watch up there.”

Sam nodded, pumping the shotgun and looking to Dean.

“Dean, go in the south side door.”

“Where are you going?”

“Center.”

Dean and Sam looked at each other and nodded, both heading off in their respective directions.

Inside, a young woman was tied to a chair, weeping as a blonde demon walked a circle around her. Two black-haired thugs watched her, laughing as they drank heavily, the stench of alcohol thick in the air.

“Oh God,” the captive cried out when the blonde cut into her skin. “Oh please, Lord, help me.”

She prayed earnestly, the thin gold cross hanging out of what was left of her shirt. It tugged at Castiel’s soul and he moved.

“Whoa, where the hell did he come from?”

Castiel looked up, standing directly behind the weeping woman. The blonde demon stepped back quickly.

“Who are you?”

Castiel laid a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “The Lord has heard your prayers. I am the angel, Castiel. You are safe.”

The blonde demon swung forward, stabbing the knife into his chest and Castiel smirked, taking her by the arm and tossing her into the wooden beams which splintered upon impact. Her two thugs raced towards him and Castiel shoved one to the side where he met with Dean bursting through the door, plunging the knife into the demon’s throat. Castiel shoved the other to the ground, light shining from his hand, the demon screaming as he died.

The retort of the Colt was heard above them and Castiel smiled. A brunette came running down the stairs then froze at the sight of himself and Dean. She lifted her head and black smoke started to pour out of her but Cas caught her before she could flee, smiting her easily.

“Damn, this is starting to get easy,” Dean laughed, wiping blood from his cheek.

He bent and slit the woman’s ropes. She took one look at them both and took off running for the door.

“What? No thanks?” Dean called after her then shrugged. “Whatever.”

He turned back to Castiel who was watching him, amused, and his eyes widened.

“Cas, look out!”

Castiel spun in time to see the blonde demon for an instant before she stabbed him in the chest once again, this time with a tiny triangular blade. He felt the wound burn in a way that the previous wound had not.

“Burn in hell, feathers,” She hissed.

Dean surged around him, slitting her throat and she burned before them.

“Cas, are you okay?”

Castiel pulled the blade out and felt his stomach turn as his blood mixed with a clear liquid on the blade, turning it black.

“Poison,”

“Poison? Can you be poisoned?”

“Yes.” Castiel said shortly, pulling his shirt open. Already he could see it turning his veins black, pumping slowly through his system.

“What do I do?” Dean asked quickly. “How do I stop it?”

Castiel looked up and felt his world spin. He started to fall and Dean surged forward, catching him around the chest and Castiel’s arms fell around his shoulders.

“Talk to me, Cas. What’s the cure?”

“There is no cure. I am going to die.” Castiel finished weakly, looking up at Dean, inches from his face.

Dean shook his head. “No. No, no, no, no…I won’t let you. Tell me what to do, Cas, tell me what you need. There has to be something, anything I can do.”

Castiel looked up at him. They had come so close, he had come so close…his body felt so heavy, his vision blurring. He slid a hand through Dean’s hair, pulling him closer and Dean lowered his head willingly. Maybe it was his suddenly spotty vision but he swore he saw tears in Dean’s eyes.

“Just one thing.”

He stretched himself up to press his lips against Dean’s. He felt Dean stiffen in surprise then his grip tightened around the angel, pulling him close, kissing him fiercely, passionately.

Dean couldn’t believe he was kissing Castiel, _really_ kissing the _real_ Castiel and Castiel hadn’t turned him into ash yet. Then he felt Castiel start to pull away from him and he went limp in his arms, jerking him back into the now.

“Cas? CAS!”

Sam came running down the stairs, splattered with blood. “Dean! What happened?”

“That demon bitch poisoned him with something!” Dean snapped, gathering Castiel into his arms. Sam looked at the wound, the puncture already turning black.

“Get him in the car. I’ll call Bobby.”

Sam ran ahead, opening the door as Dean hurried after, carrying Castiel against his chest. He climbed into the back seat, cradling Castiel in his arms. The angel had broken into a sweat and was beginning to shiver. Dean shucked off his jacket and laid it over Castiel as Sam climbed into the driver’s seat, starting the engine, fishtailing onto the highway.

“Stay with me, Cas,” Dean worried, smoothing the angel’s hair back away from his face. Sam glanced back at them in the mirror and put the pedal to the floor.

* * *

Dawn was still an hour away when they reached Bobby’s house, Sam bounding out of the car and up the steps, pounding on the door.

“Bobby!” he called loudly.

Dean slipped out of the car, pulling Castiel’s arm over his shoulder until he could once again lift him in his arms, carrying him up the steps. By then, Bobby had swung the door open.

“What the hell happened!?” Bobby swore when he saw the unconscious angel.

“We went after those demons you told us about and one of them poisoned him.”

“Poisoned? An angel?”

“She stabbed him with this.” Sam replied, handing Bobby the small blade wrapped in a cloth. The liquid had turned the metal black.

“I’ll see if I can find something. In the meantime, let’s set him up in the panic room.”

“The panic room? Why?” Dean asked.

“Because it’s safe, that’s why.” Bobby snapped. “Sick angel who’s got a reputation for wasting demons with the Winchesters? If word gets out…”

Dean nodded. “Castiel’s got a big red target on his chest.”

“Dean…” Castiel whispered and Bobby sighed.

“Come on.”

He led the way downstairs and pulled several blankets out of a cupboard as Dean lay Castiel on the bed, gently. He pulled the angel out of his overcoat and tie, setting them to one side along with his shoes. Castiel was shaking badly and Bobby gingerly laid the blankets over him before pulling his shirt open to see the wound.

The puncture had turned solid black and the veins spreading out from it were swollen and dark beneath the angel’s skin.

“That looks bad,” Sam said softly. As if in response, Castiel coughed softly, his shaking redoubling. Dean paced behind them, his arms folded over his chest. Bobby ran a hand over his face, frowning.

“If I can figure out what they poisoned him with, maybe we can fix up an antidote,”

“Cas…” Dean started slowly. “Cas said there wasn’t a cure. He said he was going to die.”

“Well then, he’s an idjit and I ain’t letting him go out without fighting like hell to keep him. I need someone around who can drink me under the table.” Bobby snapped.

Sam stood slowly. “I’ll help you look.”

“I’ll stay here with Cas,” Dean said softly and they both nodded, heading up the stairs.

Dean pulled a chair over to the side of the bed, wetting a cloth and laying it over Castiel’s forehead.

“Dean…” Castiel murmured feverishly. 

“I’m here, Cas,” Dean assured him. “And I’m not letting you go anywhere. After all, you got to tell me what that kiss was for.”

Maybe he was imagining it but Dean swore he saw Castiel smile, if only just for a moment.

-


	3. Why Fight It?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean, Sam, and Bobby learn more about what poisoned Castiel, and Dean goes head to head with his attraction to his angelic best friend.

**  
**

* * *

Sam spent the entire morning poring over tomes of lore on angels, trying to find anything on a poison that could do what was happening to Castiel or something that might heal him.

He looked up only when Bobby refilled his coffee mug. “Tell me you’ve found something.”

“Nothin’ of interest. The blade is iron but I can’t tell what the original elements of the poison are since it mixed with Cas’ blood.”

Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t tell me after all we’ve been through we’re going to lose him.”

“No, we’re not!” Dean shouted from the stairs. He half-ran the rest of the way up, carrying a mostly empty bottle of whiskey. “We are WINchesters not LOSEchesters, idiot.”

Sam blinked at his brother. “Um…what?”

Dean paused for a moment and shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m tired and worried and…”

He trailed off and Bobby pushed a cup of coffee into his hands. “How’s Cas?”

Dean shook his head. “Not good. His fever’s getting worse and he keeps muttering things in Enochian.”

“Did you finish the proofing?”

Dean nodded, waving his blood-covered fingers. “No one should be able to find him in there.”

“That’ll buy us some time but not much,” Bobby sighed.

“Well, we’ll keep looking. Give me a couple books, I’ll read while I’m down there.” Dean snapped. “I just came up to get some water for Cas.”

Sam sighed, picking up the black blade as Dean went into the kitchen, getting a pitcher of water and getting a clean cloth. He turned the blade over in his hands. Bobby had gotten as much of the poison off of it before cleaning it and Sam noticed a tiny etching in the hilt, facing the blade.

“It’s a flower,”

Bobby looked up. “What is?”

“There’s a flower etched into the hilt,”

He turned the blade so Dean and Bobby could see.

“That’s an amaranth,”

“Amaranth?” Dean repeated, following Bobby as he got to his feet, pulling out a leather-bound book, searching for a passage.

“I can’t believe I missed they were talking about angels.”

“What?”

Bobby turned and offered Dean the book.

“Here, it’s a Roman myth about tricking the winged messengers of a false god into drinking a poison they call ‘Inferi Alati.’”

“’Hell of the Winged One,’” Sam translated.

“That’s what the bitch said!” Dean exclaimed. “’Burn in hell, feathers.’”

“The poison is holy oil and amaranth petals.” Bobby continued. “Apparently, a Roman king found a winged man in bed with his daughter and invited him to dinner, tricking him into drinking a poison of gods’ oil and the never-fading flower. It turned the angel’s skin to fire and consumed him.”

“Is there anything in there about what we can do to fix Cas?”

A loud wail interrupted them and all three raced downstairs, Dean leading the way. He skidded to a stop next to Cas whose very skin seemed to be steaming. The angel was writhing in pain, howling.

“Dammit! He’s burning up! Literally!” He tried to grab Cas and recoiled, waving his hand, the skin red. Gritting his teeth, he wrapped Castiel tightly in a blanket and hauled him up.

“Sam! Cut the shower on!” Bobby called and Sam ran upstairs to do so.

Dean carried Castiel to the shower as fast as he could, the heat burning through the blanket but Dean ignored the pain, falling into the shower with the angel tucked against his chest. The room filled with steam the moment the cold water hit Castiel’s skin and slowly, Castiel started to cool off. Dean shook the water out of his eyes, Castiel resting against him. Sam breathed a sigh of relief, sinking to sit on the floor in the doorway.

“Dean,” Castiel said softly, actually sounding conscious for the first time in hours.

“I’m here, Cas.”

“Kill me, please.”

Dean jerked, staring down at Castiel who looked up at him weakly.

“What? No!”

Sam stood, walking over to the shower.

“You do not understand.” Castiel continued. “I told you I cannot be cured.”

“We know what the poison is, Inferi Alati, and we’ll find a way to fix you.”

Castiel shook his head slowly. “The only way would be for an angel to trade places with me and no angel would do so nor would I allow them to do so. Inferi Alati can take weeks or months to kill and every moment will be agony.”

“Cas, I can’t…” Dean protested.

Castiel looked at him seriously for a long moment then nodded. “I know.”

He sighed, the water still steaming off of his skin. Dean made no effort to move, looking up at his brother.

“We’re not giving up.”

Sam shook his head. “No, we won’t. I’ll keep looking.”

He walked quickly out of the bathroom, heading back to the library to do more research. Alone, Dean sighed, shaking his head against the steady stream of cold water.

“Castiel…”

“You have not called me that in many months,” Castiel noted quietly from Dean’s chest.

“It’s like calling Sam ‘Samuel.’ It’s supposed to get your attention.”

Castiel lifted his head, looking up at him. “You always have my attention.”

“Why did you kiss me?”

Dean watched Castiel closely and the angel seemed resigned to his answer, dropping his head in shame.

“I am sorry, Dean. I betrayed your trust.”

“What?”

“I became curious and spied on your dreams.”

Dean swallowed hard. Castiel had _seen?_ But then Castiel looked up again.

“I did particularly like the ones with me in them.”

Dean blushed. “Oh, you liked that, did you?”

“Yes.”

Dean cupped Castiel’s cheek in his heads, seeing the sudden hope that the angel was unable to hide, his own heart pounding in his chest. He’d never thought, in his entire life, he would even be thinking about being with a man. And even then, Castiel wasn’t a man, he was an angel. A whole new boundary Dean never thought he’d cross. He was suddenly aware that Castiel was following his train of thoughts at the fleeting sadness in the angel’s eyes, a sadness that hurt him more than he was willing to bear.

“To hell with it,” He hissed before crushing his lips against Castiel’s. Kissing Castiel sent a whirlwind through him, he felt the angel in his very soul and could swear he felt feathers brushing against his skin.

Quiet as a mouse, Bobby pulled the door to the bathroom closed so as not to disturb the two in the shower.

Castiel whined, wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck and Dean pushed the now sodden blanket to the side, rolling Castiel beneath him in the tub. He reached up, pulling the shower door closed. Whatever had just happened to Castiel had left his clothes in scorched tatters and Dean pulled them away with little trouble. Against the cold water, Castiel was barely more than unusually warm. Dean smiled at the angel’s now naked form and bent to kiss him again. Castiel tightened his grip around Dean’s shoulders, kissing him back hungrily. Dean remembered, grinning, that this was Castiel’s first experience ever, in a lifetime spanning several thousand years, getting any sexual attention. It really deserved more than a quick fuck in Bobby’s shower.

 “I don’t care,” Castiel said quickly, already achingly hard.

Dean frowned, his gaze falling on the black wound in the angel’s chest, the Inferi Alati that was slowly killing him. Before he could think further, Castiel pulled himself up, kissing him determinedly and Dean groaned softly, cradling Castiel’s head in his hands, sliding his tongue past the angel’s lips. He felt the angel’s groan against his chest and lay Castiel back as the angel slid a leg to either side of his waist. Castiel fisted his hands in Dean’s shirt, pulling the dark fabric over his head. Dean caught the angel’s urgency, helping to rid himself of his shirt as he noted having an erection in soaking wet jeans was one of the most uncomfortable things he’d ever experienced.

“Take them off then.” Castiel commanded and Dean lifted himself up to do so, unbuttoning his jeans and roughly working them down to his knees. He pushed his hips forward, taking both their erections in hand and Dean relished the look of surprise and wonder on Castiel’s face as for the first time someone worshipped his body as it was _meant_ to be worshipped.

Castiel fought to contain himself, body and voice, beneath Dean’s experienced hand. His hands clenched and unclenched against Dean’s skin and he could not look away from the lust on Dean’s face. Lust directed towards him. Dean ran a hand up his chest, stopping to pinch and roll his nipple between his fingers. Castiel whined, his eyes fluttered against the sensations but he was determined to keep Dean in his sight lest it all fade away.

Dean was already panting, somehow every sensation was more pronounced, the slightest touch coursing through him, dancing across his very soul. He could feel tiny pinpricks of pleasure all over his body and noticed the water wasn’t beating down as heavily on him. Something brushed over his shoulder and he was distinctly aware that it felt like wet feathers.  Castiel started to say something but it was lost in a muted cry and the angel grit his teeth once again, struggling to remain silent lest Bobby and Sam hear them.

“Dean,” Castiel hissed and Dean understood. He was already unbelievable close himself.

The water made both their bodies slick and Castiel drew his knees to his chest as Dean released him, sliding his hand down to the angel’s entrance. He drew his finger over the puckered hole and Castiel whined in longing, his eyes fluttering. Dean watched him carefully as he slid a single finger inside, pulsing gently as Castiel trembled. This was definitely not his first time having sex but it was his first with a man/angel and he wasn’t going to mess it up for Cas. He slowly added a second finger and Castiel suddenly let his head fall back, panting open-mouthed.

“Dean, I am not going to _break._ ”

Dean smiled, adding a third finger and soon Castiel was rocking against his hand. Dean took the angel’s cock in hand, lightly stroking as he stretched him but Castiel gave no signs of pain or displeasure, only struggling to keep his eyes open.

“You can close your eyes,” Dean whispered seductively, working his fingers in and out of Cas’ ass. Castiel shook his head quickly.

“…want to see…” he panted.

Dean smiled, brushing his lips over the angel’s. Castiel mewled softly when he removed his fingers but Dean was quick to give him something else to fill him up. He gave himself a couple quick strokes before lining himself up, slowly pushing himself inside Castiel’s ass.

And very nearly came from the sensation itself. Castiel was biting his lip to keep from making a single noise and he shuddered, the pinpricks cascading over Dean again. Castiel slowly opened his eyes once again, sliding his hands up Dean’s arms to his shoulders and Dean was once again aware of wet feathers sliding over his back.

“It’s your _wings._ ” Dean suddenly realized, turning his head to the side. Castiel nodded and Dean found if he looked hard enough, he could see the outline of the angel’s wings against the shower door. He imagined what they might look like, penned inside the small shower.

Castiel whined and shifted his hips, reminding Dean what he should be doing. Dean kissed him firmly, running his tongue along the seam of his lips and Cas parted his lips, letting Dean explore his mouth. Dean was dimly aware of the angel’s inexperience as Castiel cautiously laid his tongue against Dean’s but was also a fast learner, soon following Dean’s example.

They broke apart when Dean slowly drew out then pushed their hips together once more, setting a slow pace that had Castiel shivering and fighting back moans. Dean gasped when Castiel wrapped his arms tightly around Dean’s shoulders, his fingers hooking into his back. Wherever the angel touched him, he felt his skin burn, his soul alight. What more, Castiel was never still. His hands roamed over Dean’s back and up through his hair, down his chest and around again as if Castiel were seeking to commit him to memory. The angel soon had him panting and shivering against the vast ecstasy Castiel seemed willing to provide.

Never before, Dean had to admit, never before had sex been like this. He didn’t know if it was because Cas was an angel or because it was Cas but it was the most incredible thing he’d ever felt and he wished to God it never had to end. Castiel’s feathers danced along his spine, filling him, and his orgasm caught him completely without warning. Castiel gave a mute cry at the new heat, his body clenching around Dean, milking him dry. Still hard, Dean kept moving through his orgasm, his hand going to Castiel’s cock, pulling him towards completion.

Soon Castiel’s roaming slowed until he was clinging to Dean tightly, panting an almost steady stream of Enochian in his ear. Dean opened his eyes against Castiel’s shoulder and saw a strange, swirling glow beneath the angel’s skin. Castiel moaned softly beneath his hand and the light grew in intensity. Dean squeezed his eyes shut, sliding an arm beneath Castiel, pulling him up for better leverage.

His hand brushed between Castiel’s shoulder blades and Castiel gave a short sudden cry, his body arching, coming hard in Dean’s hand. When he did, the light burned bright, bursting out and through Dean, bringing him to completion instantly. A wall of pure bliss overtook him and all he saw was white for instant.

When he came to, the room was dark and Castiel was panting beneath him. Dean pushed himself up onto his hands, taking in the sated look on the angel’s face, drops of water beading on the angel’s skin. The shower had stopped, water dripping onto the tile. He bent, brushing his lips over Castiel’s and Castiel purred in approval.

“Guys, are you okay? The power’s out and Bobby went to check the breakers.”

“Yeah, we’re fine.” Dean answered his brother, somewhat breathily. “Can you find some clothes for Cas? Whatever it was scorched his up pretty bad. And bring me some dry ones.”

“Sure thing,” Sam answered from beyond the door and Dean heard him moving away.

Castiel coughed and blood blossomed at his lips. It all came rushing back in an instant. Castiel was dying and there wasn’t anything he could do about it. He was going to lose Cas when he had just found this new level in their relationship. Dean fought back the tears, kissing Castiel gently, tasting blood. Castiel smoothed his hair soothingly.

“It is okay, Dean,” Castiel said softly then added. “That was…pleasant.”

“Just pleasant?” Dean scoffed, shaking his head. “And that was so not fair.”

Castiel looked confused and Dean huffed. “That was your first time having sex. Ever.”

“Yes.”

“And I came twice to your one.”

“I am an angel,” Castiel said shortly as if this explained everything. “It is to be expected that I would have greater stamina.”

Dean scowled. “Like I said, so not fair.”

-


	4. Target

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Sam go to take care of a couple of nearby demons, leaving an ailing Castiel and Bobby alone.

****

* * *

Sam appeared moments later with a shirt, jeans, and boxers for Dean and a dark green shirt and plaid lounge pants that Bobby had provided for Castiel. If Sam had any questions as to why Castiel was naked, he didn’t voice them. Their first attempt to dress the angel failed miserably for as soon as Castiel was standing on his feet by himself, he toppled to one side. Sam barely caught him before he crashed into the sharp edge of the counter and then held him up while Dean got his clothes on.

By then, Castiel was shivering once again and Sam carried him back downstairs while Dean changed clothes.

“Don’t worry, Cas,” Sam started unexpectedly. “We’ll figure something out. We won’t let you die.”

Castiel opened his eyes weakly as Sam pulled the blankets up to his chest. “Why? You do not care for me.”

Sam looked taken aback, his eyes widening momentarily in surprise. “What makes you think that?

“You have only ever once acted happy to see me when I come to help. You are always more resigned.”

“It was the Apocalypse and I was in demon blood rehab constantly. I do care about you, Castiel. All you’ve done for me and Dean, all you gave up, it’s…there’s nothing we can do to repay you. Not even this, not even saving you would be enough.”

Castiel looked at him strangely and started to say something but his breath hitched and he coughed violently. Sam caught his hand, supporting his head while he coughed. There was a strange rustling sound, like a bird fluffing its feathers, and Castiel fell back gasping against the bed. Sam noticed he shifted partially to one side before he relaxed. The rustling sound came again and Sam felt a small wind.

“You and your brother both seem surprised to find my wings are not contained by this vessel.” Cas murmured softly.

“I guess…” Sam whispered. “Because we can’t see them…it’s easy to think they aren’t there.”

Cas opened his eyes a slit and then concentrated, a soft glow surrounding him then flowing down his wings, bringing them into the physical world rather than the surreal. Sam’s eyes widened as he was suddenly surrounded by thick white feathers and Cas’ awkward sleeping position made sense. He reached out slowly towards the nearest wing and the feathers stirred almost in warning. Sam was aware Castiel was watching him closely.

“…can I?”

Castiel regarded him silently for a moment before sighing. “I suppose. It may be unpleasant.”

Sam shook his head. There was no way it could be unpleasant. Castiel sighed.

“You don’t understand. My wings contain my grace and connect me to Heaven and my power. If you contact them, you will get a sense of what that feels like. They are also extremely sensitive. If you must touch them, do so _very_ lightly.”

Sam swallowed hard at Castiel’s warning. He wanted to run his fingers through the silken feathers but instead he adjusted his aim for the end of a single feather. He noticed that the glow around them dimmed slightly and Castiel was watching him closely. He got the sudden feeling that this was far more intimate than he understood and that Castiel was being extremely trusting.

His fingertip brushed against the tip of a feather and for an instant, he saw the earth as Castiel saw it. Light flooded through him, filling him, burning and yet joyous all at once. He was soaring, he was everywhere and nowhere and…

Like a flash it was gone and Sam realized Castiel had removed his wings from Sam’s reach and that the angel’s shivering was worse now.

“Cas!” Sam ran his hand over the angel’s forehead where he’d broken out in a sweat.

“I told you,” Castiel snapped. “They are sensitive.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam grabbed the cloth Dean had been using and dabbed at the angel’s forehead. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You did not _hurt_ me, Sam,” Castiel stated with an air of humor in his tone as if the idea that Sam could harm him was laughable. He paused, searching for how he wanted to explain. “You…um, _groped_ me.”

Sam pursed his lips, blushing a furious red. “But…wings aren’t…sexual…”

“It is not a direct comparison but my wings are the most intimate part of my true visage.”

Sam blushed deeper if that were possible. Castiel laughed lightly.

“It’s okay, Sam.”

“Hey, is everything okay?” Dean asked, coming down the stairs pulling his shirt over his head.

“Yeah,” Sam stood awkwardly. “I was just…and Cas…um…yeah, I’m gonna go back upstairs now.”

Dean watched his brother head out of the panic room and back upstairs before turning to Cas.

“What just happened?”

“Sam touched my wing without realizing.”

“Without realizing what?”

“Without realizing touching my wing would be the equivalent of someone touching your penis.”

Dean blinked in surprise then laughed out, sitting on the bed next to Castiel. He shook with laughter before shifting to face Castiel, brushing the angel’s hair from his face.

“So it’s like Vulcan hand sex but with wings?”

“I don’t understand that reference.” Castiel said softly, his eyes closed as he relished the feel of Dean’s hand in his hair. Dean laughed lightly.

“You, me…Star Trek marathon. It’s happening.”

Castiel looked amused despite his confusion and he reached up to take Dean’s hand.

“I am sorry I asked you to kill me. I should have known better.”

“Yeah, really,” Dean said softly. “We’re Winchesters. We don’t give up on each other.”

“I am not a Winchester.”

“Close enough,” Dean shrugged. “I’m going to take care of you, Cas.”

“Guys, I hate to interrupt but a friend of mine just called from a couple towns over. Looks like they’ve got a demon loose.”

Dean looked up at Bobby, hesitant to move. “Bobby, we can’t leave Cas.”

Bobby sighed. “I’ll keep an eye on him. There’s nothing we can do right now and they need some help.”

“Go.” Castiel said firmly, giving Dean a light push. “I will be here when you get back.”

Dean sighed, giving Cas’ hand a squeeze before jogging up the stairs, calling for Sam. Bobby and Castiel shared a long look.

“Thank you for closing the door.”

Bobby blinked in surprise. “You noticed?”

Castiel looked confused. “Why do you three continue to underestimate me? I am an angel of the Lord.”

Bobby shook his head and sighed. “You realize you can’t die now. He needs you more than he realizes.”

Castiel smiled weakly. “I will do all that I can to assist you in finding a cure. I do not wish to die.”

Bobby nodded slowly, lifting the book he was carrying. “Then maybe you can help me translate this.”

The roar of the Impala was clear above them and Bobby sighed. “I don’t like sending them out on no sleep.”

“Do not worry,” Castiel said softly. “I took care of that. They will be fine.”

Bobby nodded and pulled a chair over to Castiel’s bed, opening the book.

“It looks like spells and sigils but it’s all…”

“Enochian. How did you get this?” Castiel asked in wonder.

“Fell from heaven, I suppose.” Bobby shrugged. “Ellen found it beneath her shop, buried in a lockbox. I never took it out until now. I recognized the Angel-Banishing sigil you used. It was inscribed on the box.”

Castiel took the book from him and Bobby frowned when the angel’s hands shook at the book’s simple weight.

* * *

Dean and Sam were not even two miles from the house when Dean slammed on brakes. A huge black plume smoke barreled towards them, flanked by two more off road. The smoke slammed into the car before Dean could shift into reverse, knocking it back and flipping it over twice before it rolled to a stop right-side up. The smoke surged on towards Bobby’s house.

“Bobby!” Sam cried, blood dripping down his forehead.

“CAS!” Dean yelled.

Cas looked up from the book and dropped it, tossing back the blankets as he hurriedly got to his feet. They immediately caved beneath him and Bobby caught him.

“What is it?”

Castiel raised his hand towards the iron vault door and it slammed shut, the lock sliding into place.

“Demons.” He said shortly. “Close your eyes.”

“No!” Bobby cried. “You can’t go out there, ya idjit! You can’t even stand up!”

Cas pushed himself up and raised his hand to Bobby’s chest and Bobby slid back several feet. Cas stood alone, albeit shakily, and raised his head to the ceiling. A second later, his vessel collapsed to the floor and Bobby shielded his eyes as an insanely bright light burst upwards through the ceiling and through his house, somehow leaving everything intact.

Bobby ran over to the crumpled body, shaking his shoulder lightly. “Cas?”

The vessel blinked and Bobby knew it wasn’t Castiel. Jimmy opened his eyes and looked around, confused, then up towards the ceiling. “What is he doing?”

Dean slammed on brakes as a bright light burst upwards through the smoke. He shielded his eyes from the glare, tears rolling down his cheeks from the heat.

“Dean, shut your eyes!” He heard Sam yell but he refused to look away.

As his eyes tried to filter the light, he noticed it was pulsing, almost like wing beats. It slowed its rise a mile above Bobby’s house, the smoke rising with it. Dean shoved the door of the Impala open, staggering against the surging wind the seemed to both suck him towards and push him away from the clash of angel versus demon.

“CASTIEL!” He screamed.

The light grew and pulsed and grew and Dean knew Castiel was fighting, fighting for them, fighting for Bobby, fighting for his life.

“Dean!” Sam shouted, holding onto the car door against the wind.

 _I’m here, Cas. I’m here, I’m right here._ Dean chanted, ever looking on.

The light seemed to fold in on itself and the smoke grew thick around it. Then it exploded and Dean cried out in pain and loss, falling to his hands and knees against the light that shone through him and all around him.

Sam opened his eyes as the light began to fade, the smoke falling in burning chunks, all dead, and in the middle what looked like a tiny twinkling star was falling rapidly, falling straight for Bobby’s.

“No! Castiel!” Jimmy cried, pushing away from Bobby and grabbed the nearest sharp object, a razor on the table. He carved a sigil into his chest and pressed his hand to it.

Sam watched as the star blinked out of existence and felt a sudden loss. It couldn’t be, no, Castiel couldn’t be dead. He ran around the car, picking up Dean as tears streamed down his face. Dean’s eyes were tightly closed, the skin around them blistered and bloody. Checking Dean’s eyes, Sam found them blood red, the veins having burst, but at least they were still there.

He helped Dean to the passenger seat and gunned the Impala towards Bobby’s. The car shook with the effort but loyally moved forward.

* * *

Bobby watched as the light fell once again and appeared to be sucked into Jimmy’s body. Jimmy stumbled and leaned against the wall for a second.

“I caught him…” Jimmy breathed. “He’s fine, I’ve got him.”

“How did you know to do that?” Bobby asked quickly, helping Jimmy upstairs to the kitchen.

“I asked Castiel to teach me a few things. For when, if, he decides to go back to heaven. Please tell me you have a cheeseburger.”

“I’ll get you one, kid. Here, drink this first.”

Bobby poured him a hefty glass of whiskey and Jimmy turned it up gratefully. “There’s a sigil for dragging an angel out of their vessel and there’s one for pulling him back in too. I used that one to pull Castiel back into me so he didn’t fall.”

“Is he okay?”

Jimmy tilted his head, his gaze turning inward. “He’s…alive. I think he gave off all his power at once to kill all those demons and then passed out. He’s poisoned, right?”

Bobby nodded and put some leftover cheeseburger patties in the microwave.

Jimmy nodded, pouring himself some more whiskey. “I think he’ll come to again but right now, he’s really weak.”

They both looked up at the sound of Sam calling from the driveway. Bobby and Jimmy both hurried out as Sam helped Dean from the car.

“What happened!?” Bobby cried, pulling Dean’s arm over his shoulder and helping Sam carry him up the steps.

“Dean watched Castiel fight the demons. He wouldn’t look away.”

“Does he still have eyes?”

Sam nodded. “They’re just busted all to hell.”

“Bobby, do you have an ice pack? I’ve got first-aid training,” Jimmy offered and Sam gave him an odd look before recognition dawned.

“Jimmy, how are you?”

“Not dead.” Jimmy said shortly. “And Cas is fine, before you ask. Just weak.”

They got Dean inside and Jimmy cleaned and wrapped his eyes, laying the ice pack over them as Dean slept on the couch.

“Cas should be able to heal him when he wakes up. We should probably move though.”

Bobby shook his head. “No, that was a one-KO attack to kill Castiel. They wouldn’t have much of a back-up plan and after Cas squashed’em like that, not even at his full strength, they won’t be back for more.”

“Shouldn’t you patch that up?” Sam noted, pointing to Jimmy’s bloody chest. Jimmy shrugged. “Cas’ll probably take care of it when he wakes up.”

“How does he feel?”

Jimy closed his eyes momentarily, his thoughts turning inward. “Not good. Normally, he’s bright, so bright I can barely stay awake when he’s in control. But now…he’s like a cinder, a barely glowing coal. He feels exhausted…and cold.”

He gave an involuntary shudder. “Maybe I will patch myself up. Save him the trouble.”

Later, as Jimmy polished off his fourth cheeseburger, Sam and Bobby poured over the Enochian texts. They were no closer to translating it and without Cas, it was like catching the wind with a butterfly net.

“He’s getting brighter,” Jimmy informed them from the doorway, licking ketchup from his fingers. “He should be up and about by morning.”

“Thanks, Jimmy,” Sam said quietly, rubbing his eyes.

“What’re you trying to do?” Jimmy asked, sitting next to him.

“We’re trying to find a way to cure Cas. Hey, um, why is it you seem fine?”

“I’m not fine, I have a killer migraine.” At Sam’s look, Jimmy shook his head lightly. “It’s an angel poison, not a people poison. I’m still Castiel’s vessel so it does affect me but nowhere near as much as it does him.”

“You don’t seem as angry with him as you were before.”

Jimmy shrugged. “We’ve been through a lot together since then and he’s been letting me do some stuff with my family. I got to go to Claire’s Father-Daughter dance a few months back. That was really nice. All in all, he likes being her on Earth and I guess I like having him around. It does give me the ability to eat 247 cheeseburgers in 36 hours without the painful side effects, you know, like death.”

“247?”

“That time with Famine? I was counting. He wasn’t.” Jimmy grinned. “Now, I am going to pass out because I haven’t slept in a year.”

Sam laughed lightly and behind them, Dean stirred on the couch. Jimmy waved lightly to Sam, heading downstairs to the panic room to sleep. Sam stood and went to Dean’s side as Dean’s hand rose to the bandages.

“Leave them alone,”

“What happened? Is Cas okay?” Dean asked quickly, reaching out for Sam as he sat up. Sam caught his hand, trying to push him back down.

“Yes, Cas is fine. Jimmy says he’s resting, he burned out a lot of energy defeating those demons.”

“Jimmy? He’s back?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah. He wrapped your eyes for you. Why did you do that, Dean? You know looking at Cas in his true form could’ve killed you.”

Dean sighed, knowing without having to see the look that Sam was giving him now. “I just wanted to see him. I wanted him to know he wasn’t fighting alone.”

Sam sighed, gripping his brother’s shoulder for a moment. “You could’ve gotten hurt. Well, you did get hurt but it could’ve been much worse. You should be more careful.”

“I’ll be careful when Cas isn’t dying.” Dean said shortly but he let Sam push him back down on the couch.

“Get some rest, Dean. Bobby and I will find a way to help Cas.”

Dean wanted to protest but there wasn’t much he could do, unable to read or help translate and all their hope lay in the books Bobby and Sam were poring over. He rolled onto his side, ignoring the sting of his eyes. He wished it was Castiel downstairs and not Jimmy so that he could’ve gone down to him, curl up next to him, and pretend everything was okay. His angel hadn’t been gone but a couple hours but it felt like days. _His_ angel…he almost laughed at the thought. What was coming over him?

So he had a long span of sex dreams concerning one Castiel, angel of the Lord, and it turned out that Castiel thought acting out those dreams was a brilliant idea. And yes, sex with Castiel was incredibly beyond incredible. There were no words to describe it, at least, not in English. Maybe Enochian. But where did they go from here? It couldn’t be just sex, especially not for Cas, and definitely not for him. Castiel was already so much more to him than just an angel and this new connection between them felt like it had somehow always been there.

Dean fell asleep and for the first time in many nights he did not dream of fucking Castiel. Instead, he dreamed of loving him. 

-


	5. One Step Forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel whisks Dean away for some alone time despite his worsening condition.

****

* * *

Jimmy was right and by morning, Castiel had recovered enough to wake. While Jimmy slept, Castiel retook control of the vessel, pushing himself up to sit on the edge of the bed. It wasn’t quite dawn yet that he could sense and the house was quiet. Looking up, he could hear Bobby’s soft snores, the man asleep in his chair.

Castiel slowly got to his feet, surprised when they were steady beneath him, and pulled up his shirt to see the wound. The sudden release of his angelic power had forced some of the poison back but it would return. In the mean time, he would take advantage of the reprieve. He let his grace flow through Jimmy’s body, healing the sigil away and taking care of any minor fatigue or injuries.

He carefully made his way upstairs, pausing in the library to touch both Bobby and Sam, healing their fatigue and the minor injuries Sam had sustained in the car accident. Bobby’s snores grew louder as he fell into a deeper sleep and Sam pulled the book he was using for a pillow closer. Castiel allowed himself a small smile before slipping into the living room.

His heart clenched at the sight of the bandages wrapped around Dean’s head. He suddenly remembered the voice he’d heard as he fought against the demons.

_I’m here, Cas. I’m here, I’m right here._

“Dean,” he gasped, hurrying to the sleeping man’s side. He touched Dean’s forehead before pulling the bandages away, double checking the now smooth skin to make sure his grace had worked and that Dean was whole. Woken by his urgency, Dean blinked sleepily, hazel eyes now undamaged.

“You fool,” Castiel whispered, cupping Dean’s face in his hands and Dean smirked.

“Worried about me losing my good looks, Cas?”

“I do not worry about your ‘looks.’” Castiel stated firmly and Dean smiled, reaching up to gently brush his thumb against Castiel’s cheek, his gaze fond. As warmth filled him at the sight of the angel unharmed, for most part, Dean knew his late night musings were dead on. This was so much more than just sex.

“Did you ever think it was?” Castiel asked softly, confused and Dean frowned.

“You’re reading my thoughts again. You were doing it in the shower too.”

Castiel sighed. “You do not understand, Dean. I cannot simply turn off my ability to hear your thoughts and attempting to ignore one who voices his emotions as exuberantly as you do, even internally, it’s…”

He trailed off at the look Dean was giving him and frowned. “You think extremely loudly.”

“Well, I’ll try to tone it down.” Dean huffed.

“And I will try not to listen.” Castiel offered, placating, and Dean softened, sitting up and taking Castiel’s hand. He glanced over at the sleeping Bobby and Sam before nodding his head towards the door.

“Let’s go for a walk.”

Among the broken and busted cars, Dean and Castiel wandered for a few minutes. Castiel stumbled once, nearly coming to the end of the reprieve that the battle had offered him, the Inferi Atali creeping back into his system. But Dean just wrapped an arm around his waist and held him until they could continue.

Lost in the forest of cars, Dean finally slowed and turned to face Castiel, wrapping his arms around the angel’s waist and stepping closer until he could rest his forehead against Castiel’s. Surprised as he was by Dean’s willingness to be so close to him, Castiel was still far from protesting, wrapping his arms around Dean’s shoulders.

“No, I really didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?”

“I didn’t think it was just about sex. Even when they were just dreams, what scared me was how happy I was in them…with you.”

“Being with me scares you.”

Dean shook his head firmly and Castiel fought the urge to peer into his thoughts, seeking out the meaning he had difficulty portraying.

“Being…happy?”

Dean lifted his head, his eyes bright with unshed tears. “Happy just doesn’t work for me, it never has. I try to live a normal life and I nearly get Lisa and Ben killed. And you…you’re an _angel_ , Cas! There’s like…three things in the whole universe that can kill you and since you’ve met me…Rafael killed you, then Lucifer, and then the whole mess with Crowley and Purgatory, and now…this Inferi Atali bullshit…it’s all my fault.”

Castiel grabbed Dean, pulling him down and kissing him fiercely, going on instinct and what little experience he’d gained in his short time on Earth. Dean tightened his grip on the angel’s waist, lifting him until his toes barely touched the ground.

“None of that is your fault,” Castiel said firmly when Dean let him go. He brushed the tears from Dean’s cheek with his thumb. “We fought together in many battles and I was not the only angel who lost their life in those wars. If I had fought anywhere other than by your side, it is still likely I would have died.”

Dean still looked unconvinced and Castiel gave him a soft smile. “And as of yet, we may still find a way to cure my current affliction.”

“So you’re not going to die now?” Dean added with a hair of sarcasm.

“No,” Castiel lied with a smile on his face. “Never again will you lose me.”

Dean gave him a broad grin, kissing him fiercely, and somehow knowing in his heart Castiel was lying to make him feel better. It was so caring, so…human. He felt Cas just touch his lips with his tongue and he parted his lips, letting the angel explore his mouth. He felt oddly proud as the angel soon had him moaning with need and when he delved his tongue into Castiel’s mouth, Castiel tightened his lips, sucking on his tongue and Dean groaned deeply. He pushed Castiel back against the hood of the nearest car and heard Castiel’s wings rustle as he adjusted to being flat on his back.

Suddenly, Dean remembered what Cas had said about his wings and how Cas had reacted in the shower when he’d touched his back.

“Not here,”

“What?” Dean looked up in surprise from kissing Castiel’s neck to see a look of discomfort on his angel’s face.

“Not here. There is a strange presence here that I do not like.”

“Like…’should I get my gun’ presence or ‘this is just awkward’ presence?”

Castiel regarded him for a moment as if he were surprised Dean would need a gun with his angel so close. “Awkward. This entire place…has been christened by someone else.”

“You mean…someone else has been out here having sex?”

“Yes…everywhere.”

Dean looked distastefully around him. “Really, Bobby? Out here is where you bring your dates?”

He only had a second to wonder because the next Castiel touched his shoulder and they were in a forest, Castiel resting on a bed of fir branches and Dean above him on his knees.

“Where are we?” Dean blinked, almost getting to his feet but Castiel was just too pretty lying there beneath him.

 “Aokigahara Jukai in Japan,” Castiel said calmly. “It was once a common angelic gathering place and legend surrounds it. Rarely do people delve so far into it as we are.”

“Right. Over.”

Castiel looked at him confused and Dean bent to kiss him, pushing his tongue past Castiel’s lips and sliding his hand beneath the angel’s shirt, teasing until Castiel was squirming beneath him. He pulled the shirt over Castiel’s head and kissed him once more.

“Roll over.”

Castiel frowned for a moment before doing as he was told, shifting onto his hands and knees. Dean kissed the base of his spine and slid a hand around Cas’ waist, teasing the angel’s already rock hard erection through the loose fabric. He heard Cas’ wings rustle as the angel shivered and he continued kissing up his back. Castiel grew tense beneath him as if suddenly understanding his intentions. Dean slid a knee between Castiel’s legs, grinding his cock into Castiel’s ass and the angel moaned softly. He released Castiel’s cock and slid both hands up his back, pleased with the rustle he heard which he was slowly coming to realize were the true mark of the angel’s arousal.

Grinning with his own deviousness, Dean slowly bent, placing a kiss between Castiel’s shoulder blades where he assumed his wings would meet.

The reaction was instantaneous. Castiel nearly gave out beneath him, his cry echoing in the empty woods. Dean slid his hand over the area and Castiel gave a keening cry, his head dropping between his shoulders. The strange glow he’d seen before swirled beneath Castiel’s skin and as he blinked, Castiel’s wings came into focus. At first he thought they were white, bright white, but as he looked closer he realized that instead, they were every color ever imagined, burning and boiling together until they appeared white.

Keeping one hand between Castiel’s wings, Dean slid a hand from the base of one to the first joint, as far up as he could reach. The feathers slid over his hand like silk and energy coursed down his arm, straight through his body, pure ecstasy. If he wasn’t careful, this plan could backfire.

On a positive note, Castiel was melting beneath him, the glow growing brighter beneath his skin and Dean was barely touching his wing. He worked the thin line of skin between Castiel’s wings and Castiel turned his face into his shoulder, digging his hands into the undergrowth as he groaned. The angel pushed his hips back against Dean’s and Dean grinned at just how worked up Castiel already was.

“Demanding, are we?” he teased and Castiel muttered something Enochian that sounded rather foul even if he didn’t know the actual words.

“Hey, language now,” Dean laughed and Castiel sighed.

“Like you have any room to speak,” the angel gasped, a light sweat dotting his forehead.

Dean laughed again, kissing the place between Castiel’s wings and the angel whined beneath him. He worked the angel’s pants down to his knees before unbuttoning his own jeans and pushing them down, freeing his own cock. All the while, he worked his fingers through the feathers on Castiel’s wings and the angel was soon rocking their hips together in time with his fingers. With Cas so far gone already, Dean didn’t take as much time to prepare him.

Sliding into Cas was still as rapturous as it had been the first time and with the sensation pouring from his attachment to Castiel’s wing, Dean knew he wouldn’t last long. Castiel was shuddering beneath him and he slid an arm around the angel’s chest, pulling him up slightly to help support him. Castiel howled beneath Dean’s thrusts as the new position pressed his wings tightly against Dean’s chest. Dean wrapped his arm around the nearest wing even as he felt Castiel’s wings stretching, unfurling, reaching up into the trees and he hid his face against the angel’s neck. The light burned against his eyelids and burst through him, the trees roaring with the rush of wind as Castiel howled.

Dean bit into Castiel’s shoulder when the angel’s orgasm brought him to his own and they fell shuddering to the forest floor. A sound alerted them to another presence and Dean looked up, panting, to see two hikers watching them.

“Dude, do you see that?”

Dean frowned as the addressed hiker shook his head, leaning over to take the joint from his partner, crushing it against his boot.

“Yep. We’re done.”

“Best hallucination ever.”

He and Cas both watched as the two continued hiking down the mountain before Dean laughed, falling to one side as Castiel’s wings flickered once and faded out of sight. Sprawled on his stomach, Castiel smiled at him, still breathing heavy.

“Was that…fair?”

Dean laughed. “One to one, so yeah. Damn, your wings really do turn you on.”

“A rather unexpected development,” Castiel noted before pushing himself up onto his hands, pulling his pants up and finding his shirt, sliding it on. “We should get back. Bobby is looking for us.”

“You can tell that? We’re halfway across…”

He looked around as they were suddenly lying in the dust of Bobby’s junkyard, Bobby himself a few yards away. Dean hurried to pull his pants up, glaring at Castiel the entire time. Bobby came rushing over as Dean got to his feet, already stammering in an effort to explain. Bobby ignored him, helping Castiel to his feet.

“How the hell am I supposed to fix Castiel if you keep dragging him off to roll around in the dirt?”

Dean looked at him, his eyes wide and jaw dropped. “Wait…what?”

“Oh, you think I’m an idjit? Think I don’t know what you and Cas are doing in my own house?”

“He closed the bathroom door.” Castiel offered to the still gaping Dean.

“And…you don’t care?” Dean asked softly.

“The only reason I care,” Bobby snapped. “Is because Castiel is poisoned and needs rest, not tonsil hockey, and we need him to translate Enochian so I can maybe figure out a way to cure him. As of now, you…” he pointed a finger at Dean. “…are celibate.”

“Wait…” Castiel protested. “Don’t you think that’s a little far?”

He barely got the sentence out of his mouth before he doubled over in a coughing fit. Dean took over his weight from Bobby, carrying him into the house. Bobby and Dean exchanged a look and Dean dropped his head, thoroughly chastised. He went to fetch Castiel some water while Bobby sat next to Cas on the couch.

“Why do you let him wear you out?”

Castiel laughed lightly. “I am dying, Bobby. Whether you, Sam, or Dean admit it, it is true. And I want as much of Dean Winchester as I can get before my time comes.”

“You are going to quit with that and I mean it, kid.”

Castiel’s brow furrowed in confusion and amusement at being called ‘kid’ but Bobby just scowled.

“I mean it!”

Castiel let himself fall back against the pillow, sighing. “What do you need me to translate?”

Sam walked in from the kitchen just then. “If you can just help me with some key words and grammar, I might be able to do some translating on my own. And help us pick out which of these sigils might be able to help or not.”

Castiel held his hands up for the book and Bobby handed it to him. The angel set it open on his lap and took the water Dean brought him. Dean said something and Castiel laughed, Sam looking at him strangely.

“Since when do you laugh?” Sam teased and Bobby sat down at his desk, looking at the three fondly. His boys. They had always been his boys and he was always fighting to keep one or more of them alive.

Castiel protested being called a kid but that’s what he was: a joyful, giddy kid in love for the first time.  Bobby smiled as Sam worked on getting Castiel to laugh again which proved to not be that hard. Dean watched both the angel and Sam as if they were his entire world. He’d touch Castiel’s shoulder and the back of his hand while lightly punching Sam’s shoulder and teasing his brother. Dean suddenly caught his gaze over Sam’s shoulder and Bobby nodded to him, giving his silent approval. Dean looked down, trying to hide his relief and happiness.

How could anyone deny that man anything he wanted after all he’d given up? After everything they all had given up?

-


	6. A Helping Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An old friend makes an unexpected appearance and brings new hope for saving Castiel.

For a few days, all they did was sit in Bobby’s library and read. Soon even Castiel was tired of it. Dean made a few grocery runs but the air in the house became more and more depressed. He couldn’t look at Castiel anymore and pretend there was nothing wrong with him. He was pale and shivered constantly now and the line of dark, swollen veins had extended past the collar of his shirt up to his jaw line.

Returning from the store, Dean set his bags on the table in the kitchen before heading downstairs to where Bobby was working on something in the panic room.

“Here’s the lavender root you ordered.”

“Thanks, Dean,” Bobby said softly, taking the root and slicing off a piece, letting it fall into the bowl. Dean nodded, watching as the bowl, full of a dark greenish liquid, began to smoke.

 “Chick was hot.” He mentioned casually. “Is she who you’ve been bringing home and doing in the junkyard?”

Bobby nearly cut himself when the knife slipped and he stared at Dean. “…what?”

Dean grinned. He couldn’t help himself. “Yeah, Cas sensed something in the junkyard when we were out there. He said you had ‘christened’ every car in the yard.”

Bobby shook his head. “Shut up, ya idjit.”

Dean laughed, glancing down at the table. He noticed a sigil underneath the bowl, written in human blood.

“What’s that?”

“An Enochian healing sigil.”

Dean swallowed hard. “Will this…?”

Bobby shook his head. “Cas says it won’t but I don’t know, I gotta do something. Maybe it’ll help lessen the poison’s affect on him or something.”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded, understanding the need to act.

Bobby shooed him back a few feet before beginning a slow Enochian chant read from a handwritten page, faltering a little over unknown words. The sigil started glowing on the table and Bobby pricked his finger, letting a drop of blood fall into the bowl. It hissed and smoked as he finished the chant, the liquid turning an electric purple.

“Here,” Bobby poured the liquid into a mug and handed it to Dean who nearly dropped it in surprise.

“It’s freezing!” he yelped and Bobby nodded.

“The poison is called hell for angels, after all. Might as well fight it with something cold. Give that to Cas.”

Sam looked up from his reading when Dean came upstairs. He was surrounded by notes, both his own and Castiel’s, as he struggled to learn the new language he was presented with. Dean smiled at his brother, knowing that despite the stress and pressure of finding Cas a cure, Sam was totally geeking out over getting to learn something new.

The mug had frosted over and he sat next to Cas on the couch, gently touching the angel’s shoulder. Cas appeared to be asleep but his eyes opened the moment Dean touched him, looking at him blearily. For a moment, Dean could see just how bad Castiel felt before he hid it behind a smile. Glancing over at Sam, who had his head buried in books once again, Dean brushed his lips over Castiel’s, holding him close for a moment.

“Here, Bobby wants you to try this,” Dean offered him the mug and Castiel looked at it for a long time.

“What’s in it?”

“Lavender, king’s foil, a bezoar, and amaryllis root, conjured over an Enochian healing sigil,” Bobby answered from the stairs.

Cas tilted his head, regarding the mixture distastefully for a moment before turning the mug up, drinking it all straight down. He shuddered, handing the mug back to Dean, his eyes tightly shut.

“I’m sorry, it probably would’ve been better warm,”

Castiel shook his head. “No, it was nice that it was cold. It felt good.”

As they watched, the Inferi Atali retreated slowly down past the collar of Castiel’s shirt and the angel’s shivering became less noticeable before stopping altogether.

“How do you feel?” Bobby asked quietly and Sam watched concernedly. Castiel blinked for a moment, surprised.

“I feel…better,” he said softly. “I can still feel the poison but it’s not as bad.”

Bobby nodded. “I’ll make some more. We can use this to take the edge off until we find something more permanent.”

He started downstairs before turning to look at Dean, pointing his finger at the couple on the couch.

“No.”

“What?” Dean feigned innocence and Castiel hid his smirk behind his hands.

“I said no.”

Dean and Castiel shared a look as Sam looked, confused, from Bobby to Dean before shrugging.

“Cas, can you help me with this?” he called from the table. Dean helped Castiel to his feet and nearly squeaked in surprise when Castiel slid a hand over his ass before joining Sam at the table. Dean pouted as Castiel proceeded to ignore him, taking a look at Sam’s translations and offering critique where it was needed.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean muttered, going into the kitchen to grab himself a beer.

Just as he opened the fridge, Bobby’s phone rang. He grabbed a beer and wandered over to the set of phones on the wall. He determined the one ringing was actually Bobby’s house phone and picked it up.

“Bobby’s,”

_“Hey Dean!”_

Dean slammed the phone back into its holster and Bobby frowned at him as he came into the kitchen, carrying a pitcher for water.

“Who was that?”

The phone rang again and Bobby and Dean raced for it. Bobby won and silenced Dean with a glare.

“Hello?”

_“Hey Bobby!”_

Bobby rolled his eyes and Dean smirked knowingly.  “Hi…Garth. Look, this isn’t the greatest time right now.”

There was a screeching of tires on gravel outside and both Sam and Castiel looked up. Sam was on his feet in an instant. Castiel remained seated but not out of choice. He wasn’t sure how well his feet might hold him. Either he had gotten much better at lying or Dean wanted so much to see him feel better that none of them could tell the potion Bobby had given him felt like acid in his gut. It was everything he could do not to scream.

He smiled at Dean and waved them on and the three filed out onto the porch as a car door slammed. Alone, Castiel gave a soft wail, tears streaking down his face, steaming against his too warm skin. He gathered his grace and gave a short burst, burning away the potion. The Inferi Atali almost instantly began working to regain the ground it had lost but it burned far less and he could breathe again. He sat there for a moment, getting his breath back, amazed at how human he’d become. He was hungry, thirsty, and the burning ache of the Inferi Atali was always at the forefront of his mind. How did people do this? Be dying and pretending they’re just fine so as not to hurt the ones they loved?

Bobby held the phone loosely in his hand, staring down at the young man who was climbing out of his car.

“I’m kinda…already here,” Garth stood at the foot of the porch, smiling weakly up at the three men. Sam set his mouth in a grim line and Bobby sighed, cutting of the phone and passing it back to Dean.

“What d’ya want, ya idjit?”

Garth slowly lowered his phone, closing it and folding it into his pocket. He then jogged up the steps, first hugging Dean then Sam and would’ve hugged Bobby if the man hadn’t shoved him back, a hand over his face. The brothers traded a disgusted look as Garth stumbled back, shaking his head as if reorienting himself. Bobby repeated his question.

“I need your help. I’m tracking this thing but I’m not sure what it is.”

Bobby ran a hand over his face and motioned him in. Dean and Sam went back in first and Castiel stood slowly as they entered. Garth bounced in after them, his eyes lighting on the weak angel.

“Oh my God…you must be Castiel.”

Before anyone could say a thing to warn him, Garth had crossed the small space and hugged Castiel tightly. Dean gave a wordless sound of protest and Castiel closed his eyes, sighing against the obvious intrusion.

“Hey, back off,” Dean said gruffly. “Cas isn’t feeling well.”

“Oh!” Garth backed off, smoothing Castiel’s shirt with his hands before Castiel pushed him away, patting his hands gently before he stepped back.

Dean stepped forward as Castiel swayed dizzily, covering his hand with his mouth before walking quickly towards the bathroom.  Garth looked after him then back at Bobby, Dean and Sam, his eyes wide and fearful.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Dean sighed and pushed past him, heading quickly after Castiel. Sam sighed, turning back to Garth.

“What is it you were tracking?”

“Oh, um, I don’t know.”

Sam sighed, trying not to roll his eyes. He’d never really liked Garth all that much, despite how amusing he could be at times. Garth looked away, gesticulating oddly with his hands as he tried to explain what he’d seen.

“Like, these people keep getting caught in weird hallucinations. They don’t always die but…they seem to get what’s coming to’em. You know, like bullies getting bullied, cheaters getting cheated…”

“Wife beaters getting beaten?” Bobby supplied.

“Yeah! Yeah!” Garth chimed in eagerly, pointing to Bobby before reaching into his pocket, pulling out several crumpled Snickers wrappers.

“And I find these wherever it strikes. Like…everywhere, man. Fucking everywhere.”

Sam shared a long look with Bobby and Bobby nodded knowingly.

“It’s a Trickster.”

“More than a Trickster, Bobby, that’s Gabriel’s MO.” Sam interjected, suddenly feeling excited.

“Yeah, so how do I kill it?” Garth asked curiously and Sam stared at him in shock.

“No! If it’s Gabriel, maybe he can help Cas. Or at least point us in the right direction.”

“Sam, Gabriel’s dead. He went toe to toe with the Devil and Lucifer came out on top. We know that.”

“And Lucifer turned Cas into pulp and he came back. God brought him back so who’s to say maybe he didn’t bring Gabriel back too?”

Dean sat on the bathroom floor with Castiel cradled against his chest. He smoothed the angel’s hair back away from his face, trying not to show how scared he was that the angel’s skin was pale, almost translucent, and yet flushed with fever. He tried not to show how it tore at him when he found Castiel dry retching, nearly choking on his own bile.

So he held his angel while Castiel shook, breathing heavily through an open mouth. His eyes were sunken, his lashes heavy with salted tears, but Dean just murmured unintelligible nothings soothingly and slowly Castiel seemed to relax. He turned slightly, tucking his head under Dean’s chin, curling up against his chest.

“Dean!”

Dean glanced up when Sam came barreling through the halls, catching himself on the door frame. Sam took in the way the couple was curled up and dismissed it all in one second, his news too important to pay attention to how intimate his brother appeared to be with Castiel.

“Garth’s tracking a Trickster and I think it might be Gabriel!”

Castiel’s eyes opened slowly as Dean felt treacherous hope fill his chest. He saw Sam glance at the way Castiel was nestled against him and sighed, bracing himself for the coming storm.

“Go ahead. Say it.”

“Say what?” Sam asked innocently, a trace of confusion in his voice.

“About Cas and me, say it.”

Sam shook his head slightly, confused, before shrugging. “I just think it’s nice how you’re being so sweet with Cas while he’s sick. I wasn’t going to say anything because I figured you’d be like ‘Dude, no chick flick moments.’”

Dean stared at his brother, wondering how in the hell one man could be so oblivious. Castiel chuckled softly against his neck.

 “Do you think Gabriel might know a way to help you?” Dean finally asked Castiel quietly and the angel responded in a voice that was barely more than a whisper.

“It is possible that he may know more about the poison than I do. He does have more experience with it.”

“Experience?” Sam asked and Castiel sighed. Behind Sam, Bobby came to a stop and Garth seemed to be trying to peek under Sam’s arm.

“I do believe you came upon the name Inferi Atali in accompaniment to a Roman myth.”

“Yeah, I don’t…you mean, that was Gabriel?” Dean shook his head.

“He was involved. The details are uncertain.” Castiel clarified. “But it is more likely that we can contact him versus the other angel involved.”

“It’s more likely we can contact someone we know is dead and just _might_ have been resurrected by _God_ than another angel?” Bobby scoffed and Castiel sighed.

“The other angel involved is Samael.”

“Samael? As in the angel of death, Samael?” Sam stared at Castiel in disbelief.

“Yes, among other things.” Castiel frowned. “He and Gabriel were notorious at that time for…making trouble. Mischief, pranks…it was always either one or the other. They both disappeared around the same time but we at least have an idea where Gabriel might be. Samael…”

“Well, don’t you have that angel finding sigil thing?” Dean prompted.

“Yes but it was difficult for me to find Anna with it, she being on the same level that I am, and I am much weaker than I was then. Attempting to find an archangel who is pointedly hiding from everyone at my current strength would be…ill advised.”

Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Well, we know it’s Gabriel. Why don’t we just pray and ask for his help versus running into another one of his games?”

“And you think he’ll answer?” Dean quipped. “I think he’d much rather catch us with our pants down again.”

“Well, it’s Cas we’re asking help for, not ourselves.”

“Dean, Sam,” Castiel addressed them both shortly. “You are both restless. Go and see if this is a Trickster or if it is Gabriel. It will do you good to get away.”

“But you…”

“I will be fine.” Castiel lied. “We have time.”

They packed up stakes and made sure to have some holy oil on hand. Garth bounced around, giddy like the new kid in school finally getting to play with the big boys. Castiel scowled at him from where he sat on the couch, wrapped in a blanket. Eventually he reached out to grab Dean as he passed by, pulling Dean down to sit next to him. Dean went easily and slipped an arm around the angel’s shoulders.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t like him,” Castiel said shortly, watching Sam as the younger Winchester constantly found his path blocked by the neurotic hunter. Dean laughed lightly.

“He’s harmless, really.”

Castiel frowned. “He’s irrational and erratic. Against a Trickster, he will get you killed.”

Dean shook his head, smiling softly at the angel’s protectiveness. “And?”

Castiel looked at him oddly but Dean just waited patiently and eventually Castiel huffed and shly threaded his fingers through Dean’s shirt.

“I don’t like…anyone…touching you. That’s not me. Or Sam. Or Bobby. And he’s so…so…”

“Grabby?” Dean offered as he raised an eyebrow, teasing. “Damn, Cas, you’re turning into a jealous boyfriend.”

Castiel huffed again and gave him a slight push. Dean could tell he hadn’t gotten the joke and he’d hurt the angel’s feelings.

“Cas…”

“Go, Dean. Sam is waiting for you.”

Dean sighed and kissed Castiel’s temple, holding him close for a minute though the angel was stiff in his arms. He stood slowly and hesitated once again at the door then smiled.

“Garth!”

The novice hunter bounced to his side. “Yeah?”

“Look, I need a favor. There’s a friend of mine who called me last night, reporting some weird signs, might be demons. Think you could go check on her for me?”

Garth’s face lit up at being trusted with such a personal mission. He bobbed on his feet for a moment, trying not to grin. “Yeah, sure. I can do that.”

Dean smiled, jotting down the address on a napkin. “Here. Make sure you call and let me know she’s okay.”

Garth ran outside, jumping down the steps and Dean smiled as he heard the kid’s car start and pull down the drive. Castiel stared at him wide-eyed.

“You lied to him.”

Dean shrugged as Sam came up the steps. “Where’s Garth headed?”

“I sent him to Lily Dale to visit an old friend.”

“The psychic town?” Sam exclaimed incredulously and Dean laughed.

“He’ll have a blast.”

Sam shook his head. “I’ve got everything loaded. Ready when you are.”

“Meet you in the car.”

Dean slid over to Castiel when Sam walked out and bent down over the angel, their foreheads resting against one another.

“You lied,” Castiel pouted. “You lied to make me happy,”

Dean brushed his lips over Castiel’s, featherlight. “What can I say? I like having a jealous boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend,” Castiel repeated and Dean kissed him again, this time lingering on the way Castiel’s lips tingled against his, the way the angel’s eyes fluttered against his cheeks as if not sure whether he wanted to drown in the kiss or never take his eyes from Dean’s again.

“Go,” Castiel said breathlessly when Dean pulled away.

Dean brushed his fingers over the angel’s cheek, kissing him one last time before he headed out after Sammy.

Castiel leaned back into the couch, pulling the blanket tighter around his shoulders. Bobby came back inside and sighed softly in the suddenly quiet house.

 “When were you going to tell me the antidote didn’t work?”

Castiel looked up at Bobby quietly. “Once Dean left.”

Bobby crossed the room and pulled up Castiel’s shirt, revealing the web work of dark poison-filled veins spreading across Castiel’s chest and sides. Castiel looked at him wearily.

“I can’t fight much longer, Bobby,” the angel murmured weakly.

“Just hang on,” Bobby ran a hand through the angel’s hair soothingly. “Just hang on.”

-


	7. A Trickster's Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Sam track a Trickster, hoping against hope that it's Gabriel.

****

The sun was starting to sink through the trees and the house was quiet save for the odd whistle of the wind through the junkyard. Bobby washed the dishes of the past few days in silent thought. When he walked through the living room, Castiel appeared to be asleep but the slightest sound and the angel’s eyes would open in alarm, still seeking to protect those he’d cared about even in his condition. About an hour after the Winchesters had left, Castiel’s fever had returned and with it the endless shaking and cold sweats.

The mark of the Inferi Atali could be seen working its way over the right side of Castiel’s face and over his neck to his back. Bobby didn’t try to give him any more healing potions, only handed him a bottle of tequila. The angel had gone through five in the few hours since the boys had gone and just now seemed to be reaching a level of peaceful intoxication.

Pouring himself a glass of scotch, Bobby headed back to the library to reread…something, anything that might help the angel they all owed their lives in one way or another.

“Is that for me?”

Bobby sighed at the familiar voice and turned to see Crowley thumbing through Sam’s notes.

“I ain’t got time for yer shit right now,” Bobby said softly, exasperated.

Crowley turned, leaning against the table. “Is that any way to speak to your lover?”

“I said, I ain’t got time right now. Castiel…”

“Yes, yes,” the demon King interrupted him. “The little angel has a bug bite, I see. Did you ever think to ask me for help with that?”

“And what would that cost me?” Bobby snapped and Crowley feigned insult.

“Honestly, I thought our relationship had progressed to a point where I could do little favors for you without expecting anything in return.”

“And I ain’t buying that for a second. Whatever our relationship is, yer still a demon.”

Crowley was silent and Bobby sighed, glancing towards the living room where Castiel slept unaware of the danger not ten feet away.

“You should go before he wakes up and realizes you’re here.”

“You surely don’t think he could hurt me?”

“I’m more worried about him killing himself trying to protect me from you. He doesn’t know you won’t hurt me.”

Crowley brushed his fingertips over Bobby’s cheek. “I’m serious, Bobby boy. If you want me to help, just ask.”

“Go.”

Bobby blinked and he was alone once again.  He sighed, wondering if there was anything Crowley could’ve done for Castiel, wondering what Castiel would think if he accepted the blank check from Crowley. If he were anything like Dean or Sam, the angel would probably tear him a new one.

He was torn from his thoughts when Castiel gave a short cry, the angel trying and failing to sit up. Bobby ran into the living room, catching his breath as Castiel coughed blood into his hands. He knelt before the angel, grasping him by the shoulder, trying to offer his support.

“Can you carry me downstairs?” Castiel asked quietly and Bobby nodded. He wrapped his arms around the angel’s chest, pulling him to his feet. He half-walked, half-carried the angel downstairs into the panic room and helped Castiel lay down on the bed.

“Here,” Castiel handed him a scrap piece of paper with a sigil scrawled on it. “Draw that on the floor, six feet in diameter, please.”

Bobby nodded. “What will it do?”

“It will temporarily increase my power. I must stay inside Jimmy for as long as possible for his human immunity to the poison assists me in fighting it. However, if I were to die while connected to him, he would die as well and I will not allow that to happen. This sigil will allow me to increase my strength to where I can remove myself from his body without harming him.”

“And then you’ll die.”

“I will wait until the last possible moment,” Castiel explained weakly. “But I’m afraid I won’t be able to hold on much longer.”

Bobby sighed, setting the sigil to one side. “Crowley was here not too long ago. He said he could help.”

“I do not want his help.” Castiel snapped shortly. “You should know better than to even ask.”

Bobby looked back at him sadly. “I know. I just had to put it out there.”

Castiel glared at him and Bobby suddenly felt very small under the weight of the angel’s gaze. Then Castiel shook his head, running a hand through his hair.

“Don’t let him take advantage of you, Bobby.”

“Right,” Bobby said softly.

* * *

Dean drove until just past midnight and then switched over, letting Sam drive the rest of the way. He tried to sleep but every time he closed his eyes, he saw the pain that Castiel kept trying to hide from him and the gnawing fear that he was about to lose Castiel –again- threatened to choke him. All his life, all he’d ever really wanted was his family. Whether it was his Dad and Mom, or Sam, or a wife and kids…all he wanted was a family. It was why he always threw himself under the bus to protect them. Why when Sam had made him promise to go to Lisa and Ben, he went. But with them, he’d felt like they were trying to force him into a mold that he wasn’t made for and he them.

He glanced over at Sam, rubbing his eyes as he shifted his position for the hundredth time. How many times had Castiel saved his life and yet he couldn’t do it this once? They’d busted their ass searching through books probably older than Cas himself trying to figure out how to save him from this stupid bitch who just happened to have an angel poison on her and…

“Dammit.” He muttered, slamming his head back against the headrest. Sam glanced over, concerned.

“Dean, you ok?”

“No, I’m not okay, Sam. None of this is okay. Castiel gave everything up to help us. Even when he was booting after Purgatory, he was choosing the lesser of two evils. And we weren’t there for him. And now, because of us, he’s going to die.”

“He’s not going to die.” Sam said firmly. “We’re going to save him. That’s what Winchesters do, right? We protect our family.”

“How, Sam?” Dean asked quietly. “What if this isn’t Gabriel? What if Gabriel thinks we’re dicks and doesn’t want to help?”

“He has to help.” Sam said firmly. “Cas is his brother. You saw how he acted about his family. He’ll help.”

Dean sighed. “I hope you’re right. If we…If _I_ fail Castiel this time, I don’t think I can forgive myself.”

Sam looked over at him, his brow furrowed with concern. “Dean…”

“It’s like he’s expecting us to fail!” Dean snapped, not hearing his brother. “Castiel’s just chilling out, waiting to die. Probably the only reason he hasn’t killed himself is because I’m holding on so tight. He knows I can’t bear to lose him again and he’s lying to my face, hoping I don’t…I don’t…”

He stopped at the feel of Sam’s hand on his shoulder.

“We’re going to save him, Dean. I promise.”

Dean nodded, leaning back in the seat and watching the road sweep by.

* * *

The clock in the library chimed 3 a.m. and the light in the panic room flickered. Bobby was asleep outside the door, shotgun propped up against his chest, barrel pointed to the floor. Inside, Castiel tossed and turned on the bed, the sheets soaked with sweat as he drifted in and out of consciousness. A shadow appeared, coming down the stairs and unlocking the vault door with a flick of its wrist.

The man advanced on the sleeping angel, unperturbed by the demonic wards layering the inside of the shelter.

“What’ve they done to you, little brother?” he said softly, sitting on the bed next to Castiel. He brushed the angel’s forehead, glancing up at his hidden wings and the way the spreading poison had turned them black nearly to the tips. “You certainly don’t have much longer.”

He touched two fingers to Castiel’s forehead and light filled the room, burning bright for an instant before it was gone. Castiel’s breathing steadied out and he relaxed against the bed, truly asleep. The poison had retreated back to Castiel’s chest.

“I’m afraid that’s all I can do for you for now,” the man said softly. “But it should hold you until those idiots get back here with Gabriel.”

There was a sudden flurry of wind and the rushing sound of wings and then he was gone.

* * *

The sun rose over the simple town in South Dakota and Sam pulled over at the first gas station he saw, filling up the Impala. As Dean got out to stretch his legs, a man next to them filling up a red truck stopped him with a smile.

“Howdy there, stranger!”

Dean looked at him oddly, the lack of sleep getting to him. “Uh, hi.”

“Where might you folks be headed?”

Sam looked around and every person was smiling, joking with those they passed, and every store was some variation of “Smith’s –Insert Store Here.-” Dean seemed to reach the same conclusion he did at the same time.

“Son of a bitch,”

“Hey now, we don’t…”

“Can it, meatbag.” Dean snapped, dismissing the man and walking over to his brother.

“We’re already inside Gabriel’s mindfuck.” Dean complained and Sam sighed, hanging up the nozzle while Dean punched the air. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

Sam leaned against the Impala, running a hand through his hair. “So what do you want to do?”

“Well, we’re already here. Might as well try to figure out what he wants.”

There was sudden screech of tires and a car swerved out of the road, swiping Baby before regaining control and heading down the street. Dean stared in horror at the damage to his car.

“WHAT THE HELL, GABE!?” he shouted at the sky.

Sam jogged around to the driver’s side, taking in the long gash in the Impala’s paint. Dean swallowed hard, running a hand over his face.

“I’m going to kick Sparkly’s archangel ass to hell and back for this.”

The Impala groaned when Dean slid into the driver’s seat and Sam ran to the passenger’s seat, buckling his seatbelt as Dean tore out of the parking lot, speeding down the road after the car that had swiped them. They had barely gone half a mile before Dean slammed on brakes, the car parked in front of them across the road. He got out of the car, furious, slamming the door behind him.

Gabriel got out of the car in front of them, grinning around his lollipop.

“Hey guys, long time no see.”

The angel dissolved as Dean swung at him, reappearing just behind the furious Winchester.

“That’s not any way to treat the guy you’re coming to for help, is it?” Gabriel sneered.

“Look what you did to my car!”

“So you’re more concerned about your car than about Cas?”

Dean fell silent, gritting his teeth against the archangel’s smarmy grin. “No. I don’t. You want to turn Baby into scrap metal, go ahead. Just help Cas.”

Sam blinked in surprise, staring at Dean. “Dean, are you feeling okay?”

“It’s just a car, Sam! I can buy a new car. I can’t replace Cas.”

Gabriel slowly applauded, nodding in approval. “Maybe you’ve finally learned something, mutton-head.”

“Look, Sparkles…”

Gabriel laughed. “I don’t know what you expect me to do. Castiel already told you. There isn’t a cure. He’s going to die.”

Dean scowled. “That’s not going to happen. I won’t let it.”

“Oh, really? What are you going to do? Because I’m no demon; I can’t give you ten years in exchange for an instant fix for Cas…which is about your only option.”

“Why are you being such a…dick?” Sam interrupted and Gabriel turned on him.

“Well, I’d say because you two idiots got me killed, that’s why. Why would I do anything to help you?”

“Because Cas is your _brother_.” Dean snapped.

“Yeah, kinda distantly.” Gabriel shrugged. “I’d rather piss you off.”

“You son of a…”

“Let’s stick with the oldie goldies, kay?” Gabriel laughed, twirling his hands. “You survive 24 hours of Mayberry and I’ll make sure Cas lives to fight another day.”

A breathless rush and the angel was gone and Dean cursed feverishly. Behind them, the man with the red truck pulled up behind them.

“Is everything okay, stranger?”

“Blow me,” Dean snapped. Sam smiled at the man.

“Sorry, he’s having a rough day but thanks. We’ve got it.”

He turned, pointing Dean to the car. “Get in.”

Dean flopped into the passenger seat and Sam drove aimlessly into town.

“That wasn’t Gabriel.”

“What makes you say that?” Dean fumed. His fists were clenched against his thighs and he glared forward.

“Were you even listening or were you too busy being pissed about the car?”

Dean mouthed wordlessly before taking a deep breath, pushing it out slowly. “Enlighten me.”

“He just straight up said he’s more interested in messing with us than helping us. You remember how worked up Gabriel got about his family. You called Castiel his brother and he just shrugged it off like it was nothing.”

“So you think we’ve got an actual Trickster on our hands?”

Sam nodded and Dean sighed, reaching into the back seat and pulling his bag forward. It opened on a stash of sharpened stakes.

“Good. Because I really would love to shove a stake down that bastard’s throat.”

“So…we need to figure out what’s out of place.”

“How do we do that? We’re in the middle of a town in the middle of nowhere that we’ve never been before.”

Sam sighed. “Try to be a little more constructive.”

* * *

Bobby woke slowly, yawning against his hand and leaning forward to glance inside the panic room. Seeing Castiel still lying on the bed, mostly asleep, he gave a soft sigh of relief. He stretched and stood, walking in to the check on the angel. When he laid his hand over the angel’s forehead, Castiel stirred, blinking up at him. His eyes were bloodshot and tired as if he hadn’t gotten a second of sleep, let alone the few hours he’d been down here. Bobby sighed wearily.

“How ya’ feelin’?”

Castiel shook his head slowly, letting his eyes fall closed once again, too weak to even speak. Bobby sat next to him on the bed, brushing the angel’s hair back out of his eyes. Black veins had worked their way up the side of Castiel’s face, disappearing past his hairline. One was close to reaching the angel’s right eye.

“I’ll get you some water, okay?”

Castiel shook his head minutely and Bobby smiled.

“Whiskey?”

The angel nodded against the pillow, a soft whine escaping his lips and Bobby patted his hip.

“I’ll be right back.”

He went upstairs, fetching a couple bottles of whiskey, two glasses, and himself a half-eaten sandwich from the fridge. Hurrying back downstairs, he wasn’t prepared for what he saw. The bottles fell to spill across the floor as Bobby ran to Castiel’s side.

The angel had fallen from the bed and was convulsing on the floor, blood and white froth pouring from his mouth. Bobby worked the hilt of his knife in between Castiel’s teeth and wrapped his arms around the angel’s chest, pinning his legs with his own. Even weak as Castiel was, it took all of Bobby’s strength to keep him from hurting himself until the seizure passed.

The knife clattered to the floor as Castiel went limp against Bobby’s chest and Bobby felt his heart break as the angel wept quietly. Love was the only thing keeping the angel alive, the only reason he kept fighting against the poison. Bobby held him tight until he seemed to relax before helping him back into bed and retrieving the now half-empty bottles of whiskey. He passed one to Castiel who turned it up, draining the bottle in a matter of seconds. Then Bobby handed him the second.

Bobby glanced at his watch. It was not quite 5 a.m. and still dark outside.

“I’ll be right back,” he said softly.

Castiel’s curious gaze stopped him for a moment and Bobby shrugged. “I’m going to go rob a liquor store.”

Castiel smiled before curling back up on the bed.

“I’ll just wait here then.” He whispered.

-


	8. The Last Act

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Sam bring Gabriel back to Bobby's as Castiel continues to deteriorate.

In a shabby apartment down the road, Gabriel shucked off his leather jacket and flopped down in an armchair and turned on the TV. On the screen, he watched Dean and Sam as they drove down the street and stopped outside the local library. He rubbed his hands together, laughing.

“You know, normally I’d be flattered but those are my humans to torture.”

Gabriel stood, spinning around to face himself leaning against the peeling counter.

“You.” The Gabriel by the armchair breathed. “I didn’t think you’d ever grace me with your presence.”

“I don’t particularly like being impersonated so I was more interested in pretending you don’t exist.”

“That’s rich.” The Trickster laughed. “You’ve been impersonating me for centuries and I never complained.”

“Well, it’s one thing for someone more powerful than you to pretend to be you.” Gabriel mused and the Trickster scoffed.

“You? More powerful than me? That’s hilarious.”

Gabriel regarded him silently, amused. “You obviously still have no clue what you’re dealing with.”

“You’re an angel,” The Trickster laughed. “I’m eons older than you, a hundred times smarter and a thousand times more slippery. Now I’ve finally got something you want so it’s about time this show down started.”

Gabriel sighed softly. “You know, I grew up surrounded by stiffs who thought a joke was drawing straws to see who would tell the Virgin she was knocked up. But you pagans…you guys are in a league of your own.”

He snapped his fingers and the Trickster burst into flames. The apartment was full of his screams before he vanished. Gabriel walked over, looking distastefully at the black spot on the carpet. He frowned before looking at the TV screen where Dean and Sam were arguing about the wisdom of interviewing the librarian. He sighed; this was just too pathetic to watch.

* * *

Dean and Sam looked up as the town around them flickered and vanished, leaving them standing on the side of the road. The Impala was parked nearby, undamaged, and leaning against the driver side door was Gabriel.

“Really, guys? You couldn’t tell the whole thing was fake?” He stood, walking towards them. “I’ve left you alone too long. You’re getting lazy.”

“Gabriel,” Sam breathed. “Is it really you this time?”

Dean shortened the conversation by driving his stake through Gabriel’s chest. Gabriel glanced down then scowled at him.

“Ow,” He complained sarcastically. “That hurt.”

Sam gave Dean a _look_ but Dean just shrugged. “Only way to know for sure.”

“He’s right.” Gabriel said shortly, pulling the stake out and handing it back to Dean. “There. Now it has angel blood on it. Even better.”

“Really? You’re condoning him stabbing you in the chest?”

Gabriel shrugged. “Not like it hurts. It’s like him poking you with a paper clip. It’s annoying but harmless.”

“Can I do it again?”

“No.” The archangel replied shortly. “Now tell me what’s happening with Castiel.”

“You don’t know?”

“I haven’t been paying attention to the local Angel News Network.” Gabriel scoffed. “And I’ve been pointedly ignoring you two and your misadventures since the last time they got me killed. However, I owe Cas a favor for not telling all of Heaven where I was. So lay it on me.”

“Cas is poisoned. Some demon bitch hit him with this Inferi…”

“…Atali.” Gabriel interrupted, suddenly looking somber. “That’s not good, guys. Not at all. How long has he been…”

There was a pop and the Trickster appeared between them, still in the visage of Gabriel though apparently unharmed.

“Did you think I’d die so easily?” the Trickster snarled, facing Gabriel, but Gabriel just shrugged.

“Not at all. But I’d hardly deprive Dean of the pleasure of killing you.”

The Trickster’s eyes went wide as Dean buried the stake in his back, the point erupting through his chest.

“That’s for insulting my baby,” Dean declared but leaned in close and whispered into the Trickster’s ear. “And for my car, too.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow, smirking in understanding, but Sam didn’t hear the last bit.

A flash and flame erupted from beneath the Trickster’s skin and he crumbled into a pile of ash. Dean smirked down at it and looked up at Gabriel who had disappeared. Dean and Sam looked around for a moment before the angel reappeared behind them, clapping a hand on their shoulders.

The next second they were in Bobby’s driveway, the Impala parked behind them.

Dean glanced at Sam and Gabriel before jogging inside.

“Bobby! Cas!” he called before looking around.

The kitchen and living room were stacked with boxes full of liquor. Dozens of bottles littered every spare scrap of space and Gabriel laughed.

“You boys throwing a party?”

Bobby came running up the stairs and sighed in relief at the sight of them.

“Damn, Bobby, what’d you do? Rob a liquor store?” Sam exclaimed, just coming in the door.

“Well, yeah, idjit.” Bobby said shortly. “Do you have any idea how much liquor it takes to keep Cas drunk?”

Dean looked concerned. “I thought you had that healing stuff…”

Bobby shook his head. “Stopped working after the first one.”

Gabriel laughed again, clapping Bobby on the shoulder. “A+ for effort, really, but next time just use holy water.”

“What?”

“It’s like 180 proof for angels.”

“Holy water? Really?”

“Really.”

Gabriel then pushed past all of them and jogged down the stairs. The trio quickly followed him. Gabriel pulled the vault door open and sighed at the sight of Castiel. He sat down on the bed next to him and the angel’s eyes opened, relief flooding them at the sight of his brother.

“Hello Castiel,” he said.

Castiel smiled weakly in amusement. If the room had not been dead silent, Castiel’s response wouldn’t have been heard.

“Hey bro,” he whispered weakly and Gabriel smiled back.

“Nice to see you finally got your sense of humor…and your man.”

Castiel laughed weakly as Gabriel traced the line of black veins on his face. Dean shifted nervously, watching the archangel closely.

Gabriel stood sharply after a minute. “All right. Sam, Dean…get everything you don’t want burned to a crisp out of this room.”

“What are you going to do?” Dean asked hurriedly.

“It’s an experimental procedure to cure Inferi Atali but it’s worked 100% of the time I’ve seen it used.”

“How many times is that?” Sam asked skeptically.

“Once.”

Dean opened his mouth to protest but Gabriel covered his mouth with a hand. “I gave you a job to do, lover boy. Now get to it. You, Bobby Singer, come here.”

Bobby obediently went to his side as Gabriel picked up the Enochian book they’d been translating from and flipped through the pages until he came to a certain sigil.

“I want this on every wall, on the floor, on the ceiling, everywhere.”

Gabriel slit his wrist, filling a small bowl with blood before he healed the wound.

“Go.”

Bobby took the bowl, drawing the sigil as he’d been told. Dean and Sam hurriedly cleared the room of everything, including the bed as Gabriel lifted Castiel out of it. Gabriel laid the sick angel in the center of the room, kneeling down next to him and holding him against his chest long enough to peel Castiel’s shirt off. On his chest, Gabriel cut a strange sigil into the skin with Bobby’s knife and Castiel glanced down at it curiously.

“It’s to protect your vessel.” Gabriel explained shortly, cutting the same sigil into his own chest.

Out of the angel’s blood, Bobby cut his own arm and continued placing the sigil on the walls. Once the room was bare, Dean turned to Gabriel.

“What else do you want us to do?”

Gabriel looked around at Bobby’s sigils before nodding. “Get out.”

“What?” Sam exclaimed and Bobby stopped, holding a hand over the cut as he rejoined the two Winchesters. Gabriel looked sternly at the three of them.

“Bobby covered the walls in containment glyphs so this room should be able to contain the energy I’m about to expel but if you’re in here, you _will_ die.”

Castiel gave a wordless protest but Bobby nodded, pushing both boys towards the exit. Dean pulled out of his adoptive father’s hand, kneeling next to Cas for a moment, pressing his forehead to the angel’s.

“I love you,” he whispered and Castiel brushed his fingertips over Dean’s cheek in mutual agreement before giving the mortal a weak push towards the door. Dean nodded, hurrying after his brother and Bobby.

Bobby pushed the door shut and locked it. Dean glanced at Sam before beginning a resolute watch on the door.

Gabriel drew a sigil on the floor and laid Castiel in the center of it. He drew another sigil on his little brother’s chest around the black wound.

“What…”Castiel asked weakly and Gabriel brushed his hair back, kneeling next to him.

“I’m going to fill you with my grace. It will burn the poison out of you.”

At the sudden fear in Castiel’s eyes, Gabriel nodded slowly. “It’s going to hurt. More than hurt, it’s going to feel like being _raped_ by the sun.”

Castiel’s eyes widened and Gabriel sighed. “I’m sorry, I’ve been there. But it’ll save your life. Trust me.”

Castiel fumbled for his hand, nodding, and Gabriel laced their fingers together. As he laid his hand over the wound in Castiel’s chest, he could feel his brother’s heart beating, terrified. Even as he hesitated, Castiel laid his free hand over his and squeezed gently. Gabriel nodded and against the wall, the shadow of his wings rose and unfurled, stretching out in the small space.

“Ready?” Gabriel asked softly, beginning to unfurl his wings, and Castiel nodded, gripping his hand tightly.

Dean lunged for the door when Castiel howled in pain but seconds later light burned against the metal and both Bobby and Sam pushed him face first to the floor, away from the door. Dean fought for a second before relinquishing to their grip, hiding his face against the concrete. Even then, the light burned against his eyes, blinding, agonizing, and amidst it all, Castiel screamed.

And screamed.

And _screamed._

The sound echoed through his very soul and Dean gasped against the weight of the angel’s pain.

“He’s _killing him!”_ Dean fought against Bobby and Sam but they held him firm. Sam looked to Bobby, his eyes wide and fearful.

“Have you ever heard someone…”

Bobby just shook his head and Sam fell silent as Dean surged against them again. He grit his teeth as the sound grew in pitch; the only thing he could liken it to were the sounds he heard in the Cage.

 Just as soon as it began, silence fell. Dean slowly felt the weight lift off of him and he was on his feet in an instant. Above them, the house groaned against the new lack of support for where Bobby’s panic room had once resided, there was an empty hole. In the center, lying on the newly revealed dirt lay two prone bodies, not a stitch of clothing on either.

“Castiel!” Dean cried, pushing forward and running to the angel’s side. Castiel’s chest was bare and new, clear of the dark plague of the Inferi Atali but at what price? He pulled Castiel’s unconscious body into his lap, holding him close as he patted his cheek.

“Come on, Cas, wake up. Please wake up.”

Sam knelt next to Gabriel, checking his pulse. “Gabriel is out too.”

Bobby followed Sam, carrying two blankets. Sam laid one over Gabriel and the two of them carried the archangel into the hallway. Dean huffed, frustrated and fighting back tears as he tried to get his angel to wake.

“Sam, there are some 4 by 6” beams out back. We need to get some support under those studs before the whole house comes down. Dean…”

“Bobby, Cas won’t wake up.” Dean gasped out, feverishly brushing his hands through the angel’s hair.

“He’ll wake up.” Bobby said firmly. “Whatever Gabriel did took a lot out of’em both. Maybe they just need to rest.”

Dean slowly nodded and wrapped Castiel in the blanket Bobby offered, lifting him gently so the angel was tucked against his chest.

“Why don’t you take him upstairs and put him and Gabriel in my bed?”

Dean blinked in surprise. “They get the bed? You never gave me or Sam the bed.”

“You never deserved it, idjit. Now go on before Sam comes down them steps swinging a 4 by 6.”

Dean chuckled lightly, careful not to disturb the angel he carried, and headed upstairs to the coveted bedroom, tucking Castiel beneath the blankets. As he came out, Sam walked by with a beam over his shoulders. He helped Sam carry it downstairs before gathering up Gabriel and carrying him upstairs to lie next to Castiel.

* * *

By nightfall, they had the new support beams in place and semi-organized the things that they’d carted out of the panic room at Gabriel’s instruction. Dean ordered pizza and skipped the beer run as they now had enough liquor to support the three of them for, well, at least a few months.

Neither Gabriel nor Castiel had moved in the time that passed and Dean had taken up a silent vigil next to the bed. When the clock in the hall chimed midnight, Sam came in and refilled his brother’s glass.

“You should get some rest, Dean. Look at him. Gabriel healed him.”

“Yeah, and neither one of them has moved since.” Dean sighed.

“Maybe they’re just tired?”

Dean shook his head, tired of trying to explain to Bobby and Sam why he couldn’t leave Castiel alone to face this. Sam sighed, recognizing that nothing would get his brother to move.

“Good night, Dean.”

“Night, Sam,” Dean said softly. When Sam was gone, he set his glass to the side and took Castiel’s hand in both of his own.

“Wake up, Cas,” he said softly. “Please wake up.”

* * *

The first light of dawn crept into through the window, finding Dean asleep on the floor, his hand still entwined with Castiel’s. As the sunlight rose over the sleeping angels, first one, then the other, started to stir.

Brown eyes opened, taking in the blue-eyed beauty lying next to him. For a moment, they stared at one another.

“So…was it good for you?”

Dean woke to the sound of Bobby’s lamp crashing to the floor and scrambled to his feet in time to catch Castiel as the angel tried to flee the room. He wrapped his arms tightly around Castiel’s waist, pulling him to his chest, protective against whatever threat had now arisen.

“Dean!” he cried and Dean blinked at the change in his voice.

“Jimmy?!” Dean exclaimed even as Jimmy proceeded to cling to him.

“Keep that…that…pervert away from me!”

Dean swallowed awkwardly. “Um…”

Jimmy scowled. “You’re Cas’ boyfriend so get over yourself. Don’t act like I don’t know what you two have been up to. As much as I don’t like it, I find you significantly less creepy than…him.”

Dean looked from Jimmy to the man piecing himself together across the room. Unlike Jimmy, the man didn’t seem to be bothered by the fact that he was now naked. Jimmy at least held a blanket tightly around his waist.

The man turned, rubbing his jaw. “Man, you’ve got a strong right hook.”

“If he’s Jimmy, who are you?” Dean asked quickly and the man grinned.

“Not Gabriel, obviously.” The man lifted his arms above his head, stretching. “Man, it feels good to be out. With this whole Apocalypse Now thing, I’ve gotten like…no air time.”

“Who _are_ you?” Jimmy demanded from where he was safe in Dean’s arms. Dean shifted back but Jimmy moved with him and Dean sighed, facing the man across the bed.

“You can call me Scotty, pretty boy,” the man laughed, winking at Jimmy. “And I can beam you wherever the hell you want to go.”

-


	9. Where is my Angel?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following Gabriel's violent cure, Dean, Sam, and Bobby find themselves housing not only Castiel's vessel, but Gabriel's as well.
> 
> [NC-17]

The house was almost silent. Bobby slept soundly on the couch and Sam was stretched out on the floor, snoring softly. They had saved Castiel from the poison and Gabriel was alive and there was nothing to worry about. Well, except that neither angel could be accounted for.

Dean scowled at Gabriel’s vessel as Jimmy glared at him. “Scotty? Really? How long have you been Gabriel’s vessel?”

“What year is it?”

“2012.”

“Over 2000 years.”

 _“2000 years!?”_ Jimmy gasped.

“So,” Dean continued. “Shouldn’t you have a name like Achilles or Spartacus or something Greco-Roman-ish like that?”

Scotty shrugged. “Well, yeah, I did but hey, new millennium! Besides, everyone who knew me by that name has long since turned to dust. Seriously, time to leave that baggage behind. I am _starving._ And I know exactly who I’d like to have for breakfast.”

Jimmy frowned as Scotty once again made eyes at him and stepped away from Dean, motioning the archangel’s vessel closer. Scotty sauntered over but when he was within reach, Jimmy grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him close.

“Hit on me one more time and I will take Castiel’s angel blade and shove it up your dick. Are we clear?”

“Crystal.” Scotty swallowed hard before Jimmy released him, heading out of the room with the blanket still draped around his waist.

“What about you, big boy?”

“Seriously?” Dean shook his head, fishing out some clothes for the two vessels. He tossed a set at Scotty. “Get dressed.”

Scotty caught the clothes but rolled his eyes as Dean walked out after Jimmy. Sam was sitting on the floor, rubbing his eyes and he pointed to the kitchen when Dean walked in. Dean sighed, heading into the kitchen to find Jimmy scouring the fridge for food. He pulled out the leftover pizza box and opened it, pulling out a slice and tearing half of it off in one bite.

“What is it with you vessels and food?” Dean remarked, offering Jimmy the clothes he’d brought out.

Jimmy shrugged, swallowing hard. He set the box down on the sink and took the shirt from Dean, pulling it over his head. He pulled the jeans on underneath the blanket before draping it over the nearest chair. “I don’t know. Whenever I wake up, I’m just flat out starving. Castiel doesn’t eat so it’s like when he goes dormant, everything like hits me all at once. I’m tired, hungry, and everything, I mean everything, itches. It’s the weirdest feeling.”

“Dormant,” Dean said softly and Jimmy’s eyes widened minutely before he nodded.

“You want to know how Cas is.” He closed his eyes briefly. “He’s…there, I can feel him and yet…I can’t feel him. It’s weird.”

“Weird how?”

“It’s…it’s like an ache in your stomach. You feel like you’ve eaten way too much but you know you haven’t eaten anything at all? That’s how it feels. Like, I know he’s there, I can feel his presence but…he’s not there. There’s no glow, no warmth, nothing. Just…he feels empty.”

Dean tried to keep his face straight, not to show how worried, how broken Jimmy’s words made him feel.

Sam stretched out the sore muscles from sleeping on the floor and rubbed the back of his head. About the time he reopened his eyes, he was treated to the sight of a naked Gabriel waltzing across the living room to the kitchen. He frowned, staring blankly forward in surprise even after he had passed. He then sighed, getting to his feet.

“Ooo, is that pizza?”

Dean and Jimmy sighed simultaneously as Scotty rejoined them, still naked. “Dude. Clothes.”

Scotty shrugged, helping himself to a slice of pizza. “Are we talking about our angels now? The last time I saw Gabriel this passed out, he had just won a drinking contest with Dionysus.”

“Dionysus? The Greek god?” Jimmy exclaimed, glancing to Dean who nodded.

“Yeah, they exist.”

Jimmy shook his head, running a hand through his hair. He glanced towards Scotty before squeezing his eyes shut tight. “Dean, please. Make him get dressed.”

Scotty raised an eyebrow, looking to Dean as if amused by the idea of Dean ‘forcing’ him to get dressed. Dean scowled back at him, feeling oddly protective of Jimmy. He chalked it up to him looking like Cas, especially when he fixed Dean with those wide blue eyes that just seemed to draw him in, threatening to drown him in bliss.

“Come on, big boy,” Scotty teased flirtatiously. “Make me get dressed.”

Dean grinned lightly, shaking his head as he pulled the gun from his waistband, pointing it at Scotty and cocking the hammer back.

“Clothes. Now.”

Scotty dropped his pizza, holding his hands up defensively. “Deal. No problem. Just chill.”

He nearly ran into Sam in the entrance to the kitchen and Sam leaned back, watching him as he went back to fetch the clothes Dean had given him, paying close attention to the way the man’s spine curved down perfectly to his well-shaped ass. He caught himself then, giving himself a little shake. The last thing he needed was for Dean to catch him looking appreciatively at another man’s ass.

He’d keep his experimental college days to himself for the foreseeable future.

Luckily, Dean was paying far more attention to Jimmy. After slipping the gun back into his pocket, he poured the vessel a drink and Jimmy immediately drained the glass. Dean refilled it and poured himself one.

“Is Cas okay?” Sam asked, hesitant to intrude upon the obvious tension between his brother and Castiel’s vessel.

Jimmy looked up, his mouth full of pizza and whiskey and nodded. Dean looked up at his brother sadly.

“Jimmy said he feels ‘empty.’ Whatever that means.”

Sam could tell that Dean was trying not to show how worried he was. Jimmy didn’t seem bothered however…or maybe he was. He was already three-fourths done with his second glass of whiskey and was already casting eager glances towards the bottle.

“What’s wrong, Jimmy?”

Jimmy ran a hand through his hair, starting to tremble. “You remember what it felt like? Coming down off of demon blood? Craving that high? The desperation?”

Dean’s gaze flicked worriedly to Sam but Sam didn’t look away from Jimmy’s steady gaze.

“Yeah, I remember.”

“That’s how I feel right now. I’ve spent…years…being Castiel’s vessel. Years being chained to a comet and now this…this emptiness.” Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. “Oh God, I’ve never felt so alone.”

“You’re hitting stage 2.” Scotty said solemnly from the doorway, finally dressed.

“Stage 2?” Jimmy inquired shakily and Scotty nodded.

“You’ve been Castiel’s vessel maybe 3, 4 years? I’ve been Gabriel’s for 2014 years, 8 months, and 19 days. No one has been a vessel longer than me. Hell, I could write a fucking book on the subject. I’ve been watching you when I get a heads up and you are a classic case.”

Jimmy’s gaze narrowed but Scotty shook his head, refilling the man’s glass.

“At first, you’re sort of enthralled. Hey, I’ve got an angel in me! You’re so high, it’s crazy. But that’s just the beginning. Then it starts to burn and it doesn’t stop. It doesn’t really hurt but you know you should be in pain and so you imagine you are. You start to hate it. The first time you’re without your angel, you’re relieved. You think…I’m free. I’m done. It’s over. But it’s not and they come back. And maybe you realize then, maybe much later, that you miss them when they’re gone. Then…”

Scotty smiled, pouring himself a glass of water from the sink. “Then the burning starts to go away. Being attached to them feels normal and you no longer miss them when they’re gone. You’re not fucking complete without them. You come down from that high, you feel human again, and you’re so miserable you could blow your brains out.”

“That’s how I feel,” Jimmy whispered.

“It’s going to get worse…or better, depending on your stance,” Scotty said firmly. “If you stay in that meatsuit with Castiel, you’re going to start losing yourself. You’re going to merge with Castiel until you can’t tell where you are and he begins. You’ll remember being human but it’ll be like remembering being in your mother’s womb. When Castiel leaves, you won’t feel lonely or abandoned or depressed; you’ll feel like half your soul was just ripped out of your chest.”

Scotty lowered his head, laughing lightly. “I can’t remember my name. I can’t remember what it was like to not have Gabriel, to not _be_ a part of Gabriel. I _am_ Gabriel.”

His laugh grew lighter, soft and musical in the still and somber kitchen. “I just can’t make strippers appear with the snap of my fingers.”

Jimmy folded his hands, hiding his face behind them. A single tear fell silently down his cheek and Dean couldn’t help but go to this side, laying a hand on his shoulder.

“Will he come back? Will he be okay?” Jimmy whispered and Scotty sighed softly, playing with the hem of his t-shirt.

“He will. As long as you can feel him, he’ll be back.”

“How long…what was the longest Gabriel was ever gone for?”

Scotty tilted his head. “Two weeks.”

Jimmy stood sharply, beginning to pace. “I can’t go that long like this.”

Scotty smiled at him sympathetically. “You can. And you will. It gets easier.”

Jimmy paused in his pacing when Dean stepped into his path, staring up at the man Castiel was in love with. He stepped forward, nearly giving in to the urge to fall into Dean’s arms and let the man chase away his fears, his worries. Shaking his head, he grabbed the bottle of whiskey and stormed out of the kitchen. Moments later, the back door opened and slammed shut.

Sam leveled a look at Scott who shrugged. “What? I was just being honest.”

Dean sighed. “So Gabriel…he’s been like this before? This…there but empty kinda feeling?”

Scotty nodded. “It’s been a while but yeah.”

“And he bounced back?”

“Yeah. When he woke up he tripped back to Heaven for a few days then came back in time for the Mayans end of the year party. Was a blast.”

“How long?”

“Like I said,” Scotty said shortly. “A few days. Relax, lover boy. Castiel will be back around before you know it.”

“What the hell is Cas’ problem?” Bobby asked sleepily, having just walked into the kitchen.

“Jimmy’s problem,” Sam corrected. “Is that Castiel hasn’t woken up yet. And this is Scott, Gabriel’s vessel.”

“Yo,” Scott responded, giving the older hunter a two-fingered wave. Bobby looked at him, his brow furrowed, before he shrugged and moved past them to grab a beer from the fridge. Scott and Jimmy had finished the last of the pizza between them and Bobby sighed since breakfast would now have to be cooked.

“Hey, why don’t I cook breakfast?” Scotty offered and Sam blinked in surprise.

“You cook?” He asked, glancing over at Dean, who shrugged.

“Eh, it’s a hobby,” Scott replied, shooing them all out of the kitchen. “Now sit. Least I can do for not kicking me out like most of my one-night stands.”

The three men found themselves staring at one another as Scott disappeared back into the kitchen.

“So what do we do now?” Sam broke the silence.

“Get some rest, ya idjits. You two have been going 90 miles an hour since Cas got sick. It’s time for a day off. That’s an order.”

Dean and Sam sighed simultaneously as Bobby went off into the library to begin the tumultuous task of putting away all the books they’d been using for Cas. Dean briefly pinched the bridge of his nose before shaking his head.

“I’m going to go work on the car,”

Sam nodded and Dean headed outside. Glancing after Bobby then around the empty living room, Sam headed back into the kitchen.

“Hey, thought you might like some help.”

Scott looked up from the pancake batter he was mixing. “Um, sure. Can you flip the bacon?”

Sam nodded, taking up a place next to the vessel at the stove. He found a fork, carefully turning the bacon so it would cook evenly.

“Are you worried about Gabe?”

Scott laughed. “Do you worry about your brother when he drives to the store?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Then yes, I am. But just as I know that something could happen, I know that it’s just as likely something won’t.”

Sam smiled softly, jumping as the grease popped, burning him.

“Watch it.” Scott laughed, reaching over him to cover the pan with its lid. Sam playfully bumped him back to his side of the stove with his hip before his cheeks flushed half a shade rosier. It had been over four years since he had the nerve to flirt with another guy, especially this close to Dean, but Scotty seemed to take it in stride, laughing. Flipping the pancakes, Scott glanced up at him, smiling.

“You know, I saw you checking me out earlier.”

Sam laughed, feeling his heartbeat quicken. “I did not.”

“Did too,” He countered playfully.

Sam shrugged as he transferred the bacon to a plate and rinsed the pan so he could scramble some eggs. Scott was watching him predatorily and he blushed, shaking his head.

“So?” he added after a moment. “What are you going to do about it?”

Scott continued watching him for a moment before smiling mischievously. “I haven’t decided yet.”

* * *

Dean knew full well that Baby didn’t need any work right now so he headed off into the forest of cars to see if he could find Jimmy. If he was as depressed as Scotty made him sound, he definitely didn’t need to be out here alone.

“Jimmy?” he called, startled when the man actually answered him.

Jimmy was sitting on the hood of a nearby car, looking out over the fields behind Bobby’s house. The whiskey bottle was no more than a quarter full now and Jimmy looked unsteady even sitting down.

“Look, maybe you should come in and lie down.”

Jimmy shook his head fervently then held a hand to his forehead, trying to steady himself.

“It’s happening already.”

“What is?” Dean asked softly, stepping to the side of the car.

“I’m merging with Cas. I can feel it, feel him. I can feel his worry, his pain, his frustration…and his joy, his love for you. There are times that, just for a moment, I forget what’s him and what’s me.”

He started shaking and Dean laid a hand on his shoulder, comforting. Jimmy turned his head towards him, his eyes bright and rimmed with tears.

“Dean,” he said softly and Dean squeezed his shoulder. Jimmy shivered, laying a hand over his.

“Dean,” he repeated, his eyes begging and he bit his lip as if unsure how to word just what he was begging for. “Dean, please, I feel like I’m breaking apart…would you hold me? I need you to hold me.”

Dean hesitated for only a moment before sliding up onto the hood next to Jimmy. He leaned back, lying against the windshield and Jimmy crawled back and curled up against his chest, letting Dean wrap his arms around him. For a moment, it was awkward and felt more like cheating than anything else but then Jimmy stretched slightly, tucking his head under Dean’s chin and threading his fingers through Dean’s shirt. Dean felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes as Jimmy naturally assumed Castiel’s preferred spot against him.

Jimmy sighed contently and soon his shaking had ebbed. Dean lost track of how long they lay there, unmoving, words unnecessary. Two men from two completely different worlds, the only thing connecting them an absent angel, could find peace if just for a moment.

Dean didn’t know when he fell asleep or how long he slept but he woke up to the sound of Sam calling his name. Jimmy stirred against his chest and they both sat up at the same time.

“I suppose it’s breakfast time,” Jimmy said softly.

“More like lunch.” Dean joked, sliding off the hood after dinner.

* * *

That night, Scott started a game of ‘Never Have I Ever…’ with shots of whiskey. Jimmy turned out to be a hilarious drunk and soon Dean had to help him downstairs to pass out. Sam was pleasantly drunk and when Bobby bid him and Scott good night, he let Scott lead him out onto the front porch, swaying slightly.

“Well, I thought about it.” Scott started, turning to face him and hooking his fingers into the waist of Sam’s jeans. Sam smiled, both curious and having no idea what Scott was talking about.

“Oh, really?” he mused to prompt Scott into continuing. Scott nodded mischievously.

“Yep. And I know what I want to do now.”

Sam fell back into the chair behind him when Scott pushed him down and then Scott was all over him, straddling his lap, pushing his tongue down his throat as he rocked their hips together. Sam groaned low in his throat, filling his hands with Scott’s perfect ass. Scott smiled against his lips, his hands flying down the row of buttons on Sam’s shirt until he could lay his hands on the hunter’s bare chiseled chest. Sam arched up into him as Scott pulled his shirt out, undoing the plain brown belt and snapping the button on his jeans.

Sam gasped as Scott wasted no time in pushing his jeans down just enough to free his hardening cock, wrapping a hand around him, diving in with quick, firm strokes. Sam squirmed beneath him, raking his hands up under Scott’s shirt, dragging his nails over the man’s bare skin. Scott’s mouth crashed over his, effectively silencing his half-throttled cries and distracting him as he tried to keep up with the smaller man’s frenzied kisses.

Scott released his mouth with a pop and Sam whined as the man slid down his body, draping himself over his lap. Sam watched in awe as Scott gave him another couple of good tugs before sliding his mouth over the head of his cock. He sucked in a sharp breath, Scott slowly descending down his length until he was buried in Scott’s throat. Sam couldn’t bring himself to look away and Scott’s eyes flickered open briefly, looking up at him. Their eyes locked and Scott smirked around him before closing his eyes once again.

Sam let his head fall back against the chair, sliding his fingers through Scott’s hair. He lost himself in the tight, wet heat that surrounded his cock, the soft sounds that Scott made as he slid a hand around Sam’s hip, holding him steady. It was the little touches that drove him wild, the way Scott would just brush the inside of his palm, the line of his stomach, the skin of his thigh. He mewled softly as Scott somehow managed to hold him just on the edge, never quite giving him enough to send him over.

He dragged his head up, opening his eyes once more. It was the sight of lips stretched tight over his cock, Scott’s brow furrowed in concentration and adoration, that sent him tipping over the brink, falling until he came gasping. Sam cried out, his hips arching and Scott held him tight, sucking hard until he collapsed back against the chair, panting. Scott smiled, licking his lips appreciatively as he buttoned Sam back up, recomposing the drunken but sated Winchester. He brushed his lips lightly over Sam’s, amused when Sam mewled against him.

“Do with that what you will,” Scott whispered before gliding to his feet and heading back inside.

Sam watched him go wistfully.

The next morning the house was silent all through the morning. Jimmy was passed out, snoring softly and Dean slept on the other side of the bed, turned away from him. Bobby slept alone upstairs and Scott snored peacefully on the couch, face down in the meager pillow.

Sam jolted awake at the sound of the phone ringing and groaned, rubbing his forehead as he sat up. Glancing around, he grunted as his back protested his long night sleeping on the floor. What had _happened_ last night!?

He took in the row of shot glasses and the several empty bottles as he stumbled into the kitchen, picking up the offending phone.

“Hello?” he muttered, running a hand over his face.

The line went dead immediately and he sighed, working his way over to the sink and running himself a glass of water.

“Hey Sammy!” Dean greeted him exuberantly and Sam flinched, holding his head.

“Dude, not so loud,” he groaned. “What happened last night?”

Dean shrugged, pouring himself a glass of water. “We all got drunk. Jimmy was plastered so I helped him to bed and when I came back upstairs, you were passed out on the floor and Scott was on the couch. So I passed out.”

Sam closed his eyes, willing some memory of the night before to come back to him.

_…he fell back into the chair behind him when Scott pushed him down and then Scott was all over him, straddling his lap, pushing his tongue down his throat as he rocked their hips together…_

“Whoa…”

“You okay, Sam?” Dean asked, much quieter this time. Sam nodded after a moment.

“Yeah, just…had a crazy dream apparently.”

Dean grinned. “Drunken ones are the best.”

Back in the living room, Scott smiled to himself before going back to fake snoring.

-


	10. Help From A Stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean, Sam, Bobby, and Jimmy search for a way to restore the angels to power, while Scott just wants to have a good time. 
> 
> [PG-13]

Days passed with no sign from the angels but the air in the house was a pleasant one. Jimmy seemed to be coping a little better as Dean showed him how to take care of the Impala during his routine maintenance of the car. Scott and Sam were hunkered down over the Enochian text, working on a basic outline of the syntax and semantics of the language.

Bobby smiled at the crew that had decided to call his place home for the time being, taking a breath after the rush of trying to save Castiel. He was glad the angel was better and he’d even found his original blueprints for the panic room so he could rebuild it.

Heading upstairs, he sighed at the sight of a familiar face.

Crowley was lounging on the bed, flipping through the photo album he kept in the dresser.

“It’s been a week since little Castiel got better and you haven’t called. Not once.”

“Stop acting like such a bitch.” Bobby growled, snatching the album from him and replacing it in the drawer.

“I thought you liked me being your bitch,” Crowley purred and Bobby sighed, looking back at him.

“I’ve got the boys here and two vessels with missing angels to worry about.”

“That’s actually why I’m here.”

Bobby frowned. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Your angel friends,” Crowley said simply. “Tweedledum and Tweedledee…they aren’t going to bounce back on their own. They need a jump start.”

When Bobby just looked confused, Crowley sighed and swung his legs over the side of the bed, crossing the room to his side.

“When Gabriel healed Castiel, he took all of his grace and pumped it inside of poor little Castiel. Hence the screaming. Torture like that…if I could figure out a way to bottle it, the things I could do…”

He took in the look Bobby was giving him and sighed. “Relax, Castiel will be fine. But Gabriel drained himself out and little Castiel couldn’t hang onto all that power so he released it.”

“So they’re both drained of their angel mojo?”

Bobby shook his head as Crowley nodded. “Balls. So you said we need to jump start them?”

“Of course, jump starting an angel isn’t as easy as one of those junkers out there. You either need another angel, they need to hop a flight back to Heaven, or you can find something that carries the essence of Heaven.”

Frowning, Bobby took off his hat, crumpling it between his hands for a moment before replacing it.

“What do you want for this?”

“Attention,” Crowley said shortly, deciding not to circle around it.

“Not now, of course,” he added at the look Bobby was giving him. “I don’t want those boys and their idiot angels interrupting anymore than you do but soon, as soon as Castiel and Gabriel have their wings back.”

Bobby hesitated for a long moment then nodded. “Yeah, ok.”

“Promise me,” Crowley demanded, tilting his chin up so their eyes locked. Bobby looked up at him, startled by the spark of the demon’s skin against his. It was something that had never happened before.

“I promise,” he said softly and Crowley nodded, letting him go and stepping back.

“Here,” he handed Bobby a thick tome covered in half an inch of dust. Bobby nearly buckled under its weight.

“You can tell them you found the information in there. It technically _is_ in there, you just can’t translate it. Those Winchesters will be too thick to figure that out but if they do, call me. I’ll need to check my place for ice.”

Just like that, Crowley was gone and Bobby shifted the heavy book, smoothing the dust from the cover. He sighed at the strange dialect barely recognizable as Enochian.

“Balls.”

He tucked the book under his arm and headed downstairs.

“Stop it,” he heard Sam snap as he came down the stairs.

“Oh, come on,”

“Stop it, Scott!” Sam hissed and then tried to look innocent, staring resolutely at the book in front of him when Bobby came through the living room. Judging from the smirk on Scott’s face, he knew exactly where the hands Scott now had casually folded on the table had been a moment.

Bobby gave no reaction. He’d known about Sam’s sexual curiosity for years and he cared as little about it as he did about Dean and Castiel’s new relationship. Scott was just too promiscuous for his boys and that was the only reason it bothered him.

“Why don’t you two come outside? I need to talk to you and I’d rather do it all at once.”

Sam nodded and Bobby went straight outside, giving the two a moment to compose themselves. He ignored the half-strangled ‘stop’ behind him and headed down the steps, finding Jimmy and Dean laughing over the open hood of the Impala, grease streaked over both of them as if they’d been rolling in it, which they probably had. They seemed to be mock-fighting over something.

Though he had no room to judge them; he had a demon on a leash after all.

“Boys, come over here,” he called and Jimmy got one more punch in before they both headed over to join him at the base of the porch. Sam and Scott came out a moment later.

“I’ve got some good news and some bad news about Cas and Gabe. Which do you want first?”

“Um,” Dean started slowly, wiping his hands on a towel. “How about the good news?”

“I know how to get them to come back,” Bobby said simply.

Excitement spread across Jimmy’s face, his eyes wide and bright. “How?”

“That’s the bad news,” Bobby continued. “Gabe drained all his grace in fixing Cas and all that power trapped inside of Cas had to released so…”

“They’re both running on ‘E.’” Sam sighed and Scott looked grim.

“Yeah, they apparently either need a trip back home or something with the ‘essence’ of Heaven to jump start’em. Otherwise, we’ve got two dead batteries.”

“It makes sense,” Scott said from the porch. “The last time, Gabriel had to go back to Heaven before he came back. But they can’t go back to Heaven with dead batteries and I left my spare jet pack in my other suit.”

“So,” Jimmy suggested. “Why don’t we just grab something that has the ‘essence’ of Heaven and jump Cas and Gabe back to life?”

“Problem is,” Scott said as he came down the steps, joining the circle at the base. “Objects like that were few and far between back in the old smiting days. Now? It’s like finding a tissue God sneezed on a thousand years ago. It’s not likely to happen. Besides, something like that would only carry enough grace to boost Cas. Nowhere near enough to boost Gabriel.”

“So maybe we can jump start Castiel and then he can find a way to get Gabriel back?” Jimmy suggested, holding his arms tightly around himself. Dean wrapped an arm around his shoulders, rubbing his back comfortingly.

Scott snorted and Dean snapped back at him. “So what do you recommend with all your vast experience with Gabriel?”

Scott shrugged. “Third option?”

“Bobby didn’t say there was a third option.” Sam said softly.

“No, he didn’t.” Scott noted, leveling a look at Bobby who nearly flinched beneath the vessel’s heavy gaze. There were moments when he forgot that Scott _wasn’t_ Gabriel. He certainly carried the weight of the archangel’s grace with him at all times. Their gaze met and Bobby looked down quickly. It was like looking into the sun.

“But there is a third option?” Dean prompted.

“Yes,” Scott elaborated quickly. “Another angel can defibrillate our passed out chaps. One quick poke and we got fire power! Hey, got any on speed dial?”

Dean and Sam shared a forlorn look and Jimmy stepped forward, staring at Scott incredulous.

“Are you insane!?” he yelped. “Do you know how many angels want to kill Castiel?”

“Do you know how many want to waste Gabriel?” Scott retorted, pushing Jimmy back into Dean’s arms. “Tons. After all, he jumped ship a long time ago and he had the ability to actually change the way things went without resorting to unlocking the gates of Purgatory!”

Jimmy surged forward and Scott smirked as Dean caught him around the chest, holding the angry vessel back.

“Hey now!” Dean fought against the wiry man, trying to keep him pinned without actually hurting him.

“At least Castiel didn’t hide wherever the hell Gabe went while Raphael was bent on restarting the Apocalypse!” Jimmy shouted and Scott snarled, stepping forward.

“Guys!” Sam shouted, getting between the two vessels bent on tearing out each other’s throats. “This isn’t helping!”

Dean pulled Jimmy back once again and Sam pushed Scott back with an arm.

“If you two idjits are done,” Bobby snapped. “Maybe we can work this out. What about what Jimmy said? If we get Cas back up and running, maybe he can jump Gabriel back to life?”

Scott shook his head. “Power can only be transferred from a higher rank to a lower. If Castiel tries to give Gabriel some of his grace, even at full strength, Gabriel will suck him dry again. And, since Castiel doesn’t have anywhere near as much grace as Gabriel does, Gabriel won’t recover and we’ll be back to step 1.”

“Well, what’s your brilliant idea then, Scotty?” Dean snapped, his arms still pinned around Jimmy’s chest.

Scott just shrugged however. “I don’t have one. None. No ideas whatsoever. I don’t have an unlimited amount of information up here, just what I can sift through from Gabriel’s memories. And he has a lot of memories. What do you want me to do? Make something up?”

“Look,” Bobby interceded as Jimmy looked ready with another retort. “Why don’t we just try to find one of those holy trinkets and see where to go from there?”

Jimmy and Scott sighed simultaneously and Dean let Jimmy go as he felt him relax.

“What about the weapons?” Jimmy added after a long pause between them.

“What weapons?” Sam asked quietly.

“Heaven’s weapons, the one’s…um…what’s his name…”

“Balthazar?”

“Yes!” Jimmy chimed. “The one’s he stole. He gave them to Castiel but he didn’t take them back to heaven he was afraid Raphael would get his hands on them. He hid them…somewhere…”

“Where?” Scott snapped.

“Like you said,” Jimmy retorted. “Angels have a lot of memories and I wasn’t awake during this. All I have are images, landscapes…it’s hard.”

“Well, let’s just sit back for a while.” Bobby said with a tone that commanded both the Winchesters to straighten and Jimmy dropped his head. Sam headed back up the stairs and Dean gripped Jimmy’s shoulder briefly before heading back to the car. With Bobby following Sam, Jimmy and Scott were left alone in the dirt.

“Look,” Scott started. “I get it. You’re going to defend Cas, I’m going to beat your ass for it. But I can help you, show you things you can’t possibly imagine.”

“I swear,” Jimmy snapped. “If this turns into you trying to..to screw me…”

“All I’m saying is just because our angels are brothers doesn’t mean it’s weird if we…”

Jimmy scowled and started walking away but Scott got in front of him and stopped him.

“Look, dude, I’m just joking. Chill.”

“What do you want?” Jimmy glared at him, folding his arms over his chest.

“Why don’t we just go out tonight? Just you and me, have a few drinks, and I’ll show you everything being a vessel can be like.”

“This does not involve sex?”

“I swear I won’t bring it up again unless you do.”

Jimmy nodded slowly. “We’ll have to sneak out. I don’t think Dean and Sam will want to let us go out on our own.”

“Don’t worry,” Scott winked. “I can handle that.”

* * *

While the five of them were hunkered down in the library, trying to hunt down something that might carry the essence of Heaven, Scott sighed, bored.

“Is this seriously what you guys do all day? Read books?”

“Shut up and read. We’re trying to save Gabriel here.”

Scott snorted. “As if Gabriel really needs your help; he’s an archangel. You’re a flea.”

Dean sighed, smacking his hand on the wood of the desk. “Can I punch him? Please?”

“Shut up.” Bobby snapped. “Or I’ll knock some sense into both of ya.”

Scott pouted as Dean shook his head, going back to his reading. Jimmy was curled up around his book, the heavy book making the small man look even smaller. After a moment, Scott got up and stormed into the kitchen. He returned carrying two glasses half full of whiskey and an extra bottle. He gave Jimmy one glass and set the other next to his book before finding some shot glasses.

“This should make things a bit more fun.”

He poured Dean, Bobby and Sam each shots and set the bottle next to Dean. He hummed as he returned to his book, turning his own glass up and draining it.

Dean shook his head but took his shot. Sam stared at his distastefully then at the Enochian text he was attempting to translate and drained his shot. Bobby poured his into his already half-full glass and followed Scott’s example.

“Toss me that bottle, Dean.”

Scott grinned over glass as Jimmy slowly sipped his, still quite enthralled with his book. As Scott watched, Sam slowly lowered his head down to his book, asleep before it landed. Bobby went a moment later and Dean didn’t even have time to realize what was happening before he too was asleep.

Jimmy looked around slowly as Scott bounced to his feet, slipping the keys from Dean’s pocket. He squeaked when Scott tossed the keys to him.

 “What’d you do?” he hissed as he followed Scott out to the car.

Scott punched the air at their new freedom, sliding into Sam’s seat as Jimmy got behind the wheel.

“Just a little something I learned from Gabriel. Slipped it in their drinks.”

Jimmy looked horrified and Scott laughed. “Of course, it would’ve been easier if I used this sleeping spell Gabe taught me but I didn’t have time to set it up.”

“Wait, you can use Enochian magic? Like they do?”

Scott nodded. “And so can you. That’s what I was going to talk to you about but first…we have some long past due partying to catch up on.”

Jimmy let out a slow breath as they pulled out onto the highway, heading towards the nearest big city. Once they were on the interstate, Scott rolled down the windows and let out a war whoop. Jimmy couldn’t help but grin.

“Come on, try it!” Scott laughed. “You’ll feel so much better! Seriously, those Winchesters can be so stifling sometimes!”

Jimmy laughed and Scott prodded his shoulder. “Come on! Yell!”

Unable to contain his excitement, Jimmy let his head fall back, imitating Scott’s yell into the wind and he trailed off into laughter. The Impala responded eagerly beneath his hand, as if liked being driven so freely, their destination without purpose, just…free.

They made it to town without incident and Scott directed him to a high-end club. Jimmy felt awkward handing the Impala’s keys over to a valet but Scott just wrapped an arm around his shoulders and steered him towards the door. Scott brushed the doorman’s hand and he opened the door for them to pass through, even smiling for them.

“You didn’t give him anything!” Jimmy hissed and Scott just laughed, pushing him towards the bar.

“He thinks I gave him a $100.”

Jimmy stared. “That’s not right.”

Scott shook his head. “Oh, baby, we’re just scratching the surface. Look around you, Jimmy. I can get you laid in under two minutes. Whatever you want…tonight, it’s yours. First off…”

He tapped the counter and a second later the barkeep came over. Without a word, the sexy young woman mixed them both a drink and set it on the counter. “On me, boys.”

Jimmy looked sadly at Scott. “Stop doing that.”

“What? Compelling them? It’s fun and harmless. Relax. Drink your drink.”

Jimmy sighed and turned up his drink. It burned through him and he coughed, shaking his head. Scott laughed and rubbed his back before turning him on the crowd.

“Tell me what you want, Jimmy. Sex? Blood? Rock and roll?”

-


	11. Castiel's Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jimmy and Scott hit the nightlife in a nearby town.
> 
> [NC-17]

The house was dark and silent when Dean started to stir, albeit groggily. His head was pounding roughly and he felt like he’d gone three rounds with a pissed off demon in the dark. Standing slowly, he fumbled to the lamp and switched it on, flooding the small room with light.

Bobby and Sam were both passed out, Bobby snoring lightly. Dean stumbled to the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water from the sink. The water cleared his head and the room slowly swam back into focus. He stepped back into the living room, noting only three occupants. Maybe Jimmy and Scott had gone to bed or something. He pulled out his phone, glancing at the time. It was a little before one a.m.

His pockets felt strangely empty and he went back into the kitchen, turning his pockets out onto the table. There was his knife, some cash, his phone, gun…but no keys. Dean patted his jacket pockets and looked around the table where he’d been reading, even under the chair, with no success. Maybe he’d left them in the car when he and Jimmy had been outside working on her.

Walking outside, Dean felt his stomach drop to the floor. Among the many cars in Bobby’s yard, there was no black Impala. He could see tire tracks leading up the drive and into the road and he set his jaw, fighting the urge to curse heatedly.

“Son of a bitch,” he hissed, turning and storming back in, shaking Sam by the shoulder.

“Sam! Wake up! Scott stole my car!”

Sam’s head jerked up at the urgency in his brother’s voice then he groaned, pressing the heels of his palms to his forehead.

“What? What happened?” he asked groggily, rubbing his eyes.

“Scott! Stole! Baby!” Dean huffed, impatiently waiting for his brother to focus.

At Dean’s exclamation, Sam snapped into focus, staring up at his brother. “He did what!?”

“He must’ve drugged us with that whiskey! The car’s gone, my keys are gone, Jimmy and Scott are _gone.”_

Sam got to his feet, grabbing his jacket. “They can’t have gotten far…can they?”

“I don’t know, I last remember it being like 8-something and now’s it’s one in the morning.”

Sam sighed. “Well, there’s a city nearby and Scott’s been scratching at the door for days. Let’s take Bobby’s truck.

* * *

For the entire time they’d been there, Scott kept a drink in his hand. After a while, Jimmy stopped asking where he got them. At first, Scott tried to drown him in women but when that proved a failure since, well, he was married on one hand and dating Dean on the other, Scott let him loose on the dance floor. Jimmy found the rhythmic music thrumming up through him from the speakers almost similar to the way Castiel’s grace would pulse through his body. It made him feel safe, welcome, and the alcohol didn’t hurt either.

He was aware of lips on his and then he was pushing Scott away, a new drink in his hand.

“Blow me, Scott,” he muttered and heard Scott laugh even as he drifted away into the crowds again.

New bodies interlaced with his, new faces, all smiling, hands all over him and he gave as good as he got, loving the feel of being surrounded as if it might feel the gaping hole in his chest where Castiel usually resided. Suddenly, out of nowhere, he could feel them as Castiel did, the weight of their unrepented sins weighing down on him.

He was on his hands and knees in the alley as his stomach turned itself inside out. His head throbbed in the silence and the despair threatened to consume him. Jimmy rolled onto his side, tucking his knees to his chest.

“Dean,” he whispered, sobbing quietly. He remembered the bone-deep ache Castiel had lived with for years, loving Dean and knowing nothing could ever come of it. But Dean loved him and that was in truth all that mattered.

“Hey there, honey, what’s wrong?”

Her voice was like acid on his ears but he didn’t have the strength to fight her as she pulled him up to his feet.

“Why don’t I take you home and clean you up for dinner?”

“I have to find Dean,” Jimmy murmured.

The woman smiled a too-white smile. “Of course, baby. I’ll help you find him. But let’s get you cleaned up first. Don’t want him to see you all messed up, do you?”

Jimmy wanted to say Dean had seen him much worse but the woman’s grip on his arm was far too tight. He didn’t have enough balance to walk on his own so he staggered in the direction she dragged him, protesting wordlessly.

Something smelled wrong the moment she shoved him through an unmarked door several alleys down. He had no time to protest or react before she shoved him against a wall. Jimmy cried out when he felt her bite into the crook of his shoulder, a cry barely heard against the wail of others around him.

Then she was falling away from him, coughing violently. His blood ran down her chin, boiling as it went. He stared in surprise as she howled in pain, the other vampires leaving their meals to watch as her blood boiled beneath her skin.

“WHAT ARE YOU!?” She screamed at him, clawing at her arms, the skin splitting as blood bubbled up. Jimmy shook his head, not knowing how to answer. Was this what Castiel’s grace did to vampires? Was there enough there to do this? He’d thought Castiel was drained but…how was this happening?

Had he merged further with Cas than he thought he had?

All these thoughts run through his head in an instant before he took in the half-dozen vampires stalking towards him as the vampire unfortunate enough to have bitten him fell thrashing to the floor, red foam pooling on the floor by her mouth. He jabbed his thumb into the wound on his neck and quickly scrawled a fire sigil on the wall behind him. It was weak and only a couple of the vampires erupted into flames. The others grabbed him and shoved him to the floor.

“He’s a hunter!” he heard and then another voice. “Break his neck!”

“No!” A third voice shouted above him. “His blood killed Rachel. Raoul will want to see him. Take him upstairs and lock him in the office.”

Jimmy felt himself hauled up, too many hands on his body, and he was dragged towards the stairs and upwards. He tried to walk, tried to keep himself upright, but he failed and they dragged him forward despite his lack of cooperation. His head pounded roughly, full of alcohol, and he cried out when one threw him into the room and he crashed into an abandoned desk, sinking to the floor. His world was one of pain and despair and it took all of his strength to stand again, even as the door locked behind him. He walked to one wall and drew a demon ward on it, remembering what Dean and Sam had warned him against the first time Castiel was gone.

He then crawled to the center of the room, drawing a sigil on the floor and curling up inside it. He heard Castiel’s voice rising from his memory.

_Draw this when you are lost and no matter what, I will find you._

“Dean?” Jimmy whispered, feeling so alone. “Castiel?”

Alone, in pain, awaiting his fate at the hands of back alley vampires, Jimmy sobbed softly.

“Anyone?”

* * *

“Drive faster.” Dean commanded his brother as he tapped a steady rhythm against the door handle. “Something’s wrong. I can feel it.”

“You don’t know that, Dean,” Sam protested, the needle already inching over eighty.

“I do,” Dean snapped. “I can feel it. Something’s pulling at me, like…it’s weird. But something’s wrong.”

Sam set his jaw, pushing the gas pedal lower. Following Dean’s strange new feeling, they arrived at the club barely after two a.m. and Dean spotted the Impala immediately. He turned quickly to Sam.

“You find Scott, I’m going after Jimmy.”

Sam nodded, jogging around the side of the building to sneak into the club the back way. Dean snuck around the lot, grabbing a machete from the backseat of the Impala. He had a strong feeling he was going to need it.

The tugging at him was even more insistent that it had been before. It led him around the club to a back alley and ever forward. On his feet now, Dean gave over to the feeling entirely and it half-dragged him through the streets until it started pulling him _up_ rather than _forward_ and he stopped at a corner. Glancing around the brick, he spotted what appeared to be two men standing outside a doorway. If he looked at the door behind them, it appeared normal but if he just _glanced_ at it out of the corner of his eye, he could see what looked like a warding sigil. But it wasn’t in Enochian or any other language he recognized.

The pull was even more insistent and as Dean watched, a woman came approaching from opposite his direction, a man on her arm. She stopped him a little ways away and kissed him passionately and he looked stunned when she released him. So stunned, that he didn’t notice when she breathed over his neck, tilting his head to the side. Dean suddenly felt sick. They were vampires. The woman, the men guarding the door…he was willing to bet there were several inside…and to top it all off, Jimmy was in there.

“Son of a bitch,” he hissed, drawing the blade at his side. So far, this instinct had been right about everything. He picked up his phone and dialed Sam.

“Sammy, have you found Scott yet?”

_“No but the bartender saw him leave the club with a couple girls.”_

Dean swore under his breath. “Okay, get the car and wait for me at Birch and 5th. We might need a quick getaway.”

_“Sure…wait, what are you about to do?”_

Dean hung up on his brother, not willing to tell Sam he was about to walk alone into a coven of vampires to save his boyfriend’s vessel. That he was following an unknown instinct that compelled him to act despite knowing he was facing overwhelming odds. But he knew his lack of answer would make Sam rush to that point and possibly try to find him. Maybe he would but for some reason, he wasn’t worried.

He waited until they opened the door for the vampire and her meal then sprinted out, slicing the heads off the two vamps at the door before they had time to react and shoving his shoulder into the door as the bitch tried to close it on him. Then he was inside. He took in the burned out sigil and the dozen vampires now staring at him with the blood-covered blade in his hand.

Dean pulled the gun from his waistband, knowing it would barely slow them down but maybe he could make it to the stairs if he ran, registering that the gun felt wrong in his hand. It wasn’t his Beretta that he drew out and aimed for the nearest bloodsucker, it was smaller, slicker. The bullet that pierced the vamp’s chest didn’t bleed, instead it burned and a flash of light appeared beneath the monster’s skin before it fell to the ground, burning, dead.

Somehow, he’d grabbed the Colt.

Well, _that_ certainly made those filthy bloodsuckers back up a few feet. Dean sprinted for the staircase, slicing the head off the first one that made a move for him. He got up the stairs, the tug pulling him through a door and he found Jimmy curled up on the floor inside a blood sigil.

“Dean!” he cried out gleefully and Dean fell to one knee next to him.

“Are you all right?” he asked quickly and Jimmy nodded. Despite his words, however, Dean could see the jagged bite in his neck and the half-glazed, still drunk look in his eyes.

“Fuck, what did Scott do to you?”

Jimmy shrugged. “S’not his fault.”

“The hell it isn’t,” Dean snapped.

The door burst open behind him and he spun, firing the Colt twice and shoving the dying vampires back down the stairs onto their companions. He shoved the door shut and bolted it and suddenly Jimmy was at his side, drawing a sigil on the door with blood from his neck.

“What’s that?”

“A protection sigil, I think. I’m acting a lot on instinct here.” Jimmy murmured, leaning heavily against the door until Dean wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him back. The vampires hammered on the door but the sigil began to glow and they howled under its light.

“Dean, I have an idea I want you to roll with me on.” Jimmy’s speech was slurred but understandable so Dean glanced down at him.

“Do I get to know what it is first?” he grumbled as Jimmy wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck, sliding around in front of him. Dean watched the door pointedly over his shoulder.

“There’s something Castiel said to me when he first fell from Heaven to be by your side. I didn’t remember it until I was lying here, thinking I might die at the hands of those…freaks outside.”

Dean waited patiently as Jimmy swayed dizzily, letting his head fall against Dean’s chest to steady himself.

“I had asked him how he could leave his home, his family, and Heaven and he said…he said it didn’t matter. His heaven was wherever you were.”

Dean fought the urge to roll his eyes even as a lump welled in his throat at the reminder of all Castiel had left behind, just to fight by his side.

“Dude, that sounds like a quote from a Lifetime movie.”

Jimmy chuckled lightly. “Well, here’s my idea. I think, maybe, if you are Castiel’s Heaven, then maybe you can jump start him.”

Dean blinked in surprise. It wasn’t the craziest idea he’d ever heard but it was certainly high up on the list. Besides, it made no sense that he would have that kind of power, let alone enough to jump start an _angel_.

“You’re drunk,”

“Yeah,” Jimmy laughed. “But I still think it’ll work. It’s just…a feeling.”

Dean narrowed his gaze. It had been a feeling that led him straight to Jimmy that night, trapped in the heart of a vamp nest. It had been a feeling that made him grab a blade from the Impala and something else entirely that made sure the gun he carried this night was the Colt and not his usual.

So…for some reason…he was a bit more apt to listen to feelings at that particular moment.

“So…” he started slowly, unused to the idea of acting on pure instinct. “What do you think?”

“We need to put you in intimate contact with Castiel. I think we should have sex.”

Dean nearly dropped the machete and backpedaled away from Jimmy. Unfortunately, his progress was hindered when he slammed back into the desk and Jimmy, unable to stand without his support, fell forward, back onto his chest with a soft –oof-.

“Are you out of your mind!?” Dean snapped.

Holding, hugging, the light touches…these things he could do. He could look into Jimmy’s blue eyes and trick himself into thinking Jimmy was Castiel but the truth was, he wasn’t. And he wasn’t gay. There was just something about Cas that…and Jimmy was _not_ Castiel.

“I can’t. I don’t play that way.”

Jimmy snorted. “And you expect me to believe that after how easily you fucked Castiel in the shower? And later, in the woods? Maybe next time you should let him top. I bet he’d be a great top. You’d love that angel cock in your ass wouldn’t you?”

Dean grit his teeth. It took every ounce of his strength not to shove Jimmy to the ground and beat him for his words. He had to settle for glaring coldly at the man but Jimmy stared back at him resolutely.

“I’m not asking because I want you to,” Jimmy said firmly. “I don’t share enough of Castiel yet to want you that much. But I’m asking you to save Castiel because I need him back. I need him now, not weeks from now. Not months. _Now._ And you need him too. So I’m begging you to fuck me. Fuck me hard, fuck me angry, fuck me like you hate me, just _fuck me._ ”

Dean glared back at him now, not because he was angry, but because what Jimmy said was true. It had only been a couple days since he’d heard Castiel’s voice, since he’d admitted to loving the angel and Cas had simply been too weak to do more than smile, and every minute was like a bitter dying ache in his soul. He needed to feel Castiel against him, feel wings brushing over his skin, to kiss him and run his fingers through feathers that felt like silk and wind and life all rolled into one.

For that, he could do anything.

“Fine.”

He tangled his fingers in Jimmy’s hair, jerking his head back to crash his lips down over the vessel’s. Jimmy responded fiercely, their kiss a tangled, angry battle of tongue and teeth. Jimmy wasted no time, unbuttoning Dean’s jeans and slipping a hand inside his boxers, his other hand fastened to Dean’s shoulder for balance. Dean grunted at the mixed pain and pleasure at Jimmy’s hard, fast strokes but it didn’t take long for his hips to jerk forward into his hand, hardening as he summoned up the few memories he had of being with Castiel.

He hooked his hands into Jimmy’s hips and spun them both around. He pinned the vessel’s wrists above his head, making him release his cock and Dean rolled him over and onto his stomach, bending him over the desk. The glow of the protective sigil behind them was the only light in the room but Dean needed no light. It may have been Jimmy driving the meatsuit but he knew Castiel’s body as well as he knew his own despite how short their time had been together.

Dean stuck two fingers in his mouth and sucked hard on them as he jerked Jimmy’s pants down over his hips. Jimmy whined, dipping a hand between his legs. Dean couldn’t see his face and he was glad of it. Jimmy was tense when Dean slid his slick fingers over his puckered hole.

“Relax.” He commanded gruffly and Jimmy visible forced himself to do so, pushing his hips back against Dean’s hand. The wood behind them strained and Dean glanced back.

“You better hope this fixes Cas or you’re going to die with my cock in your ass.” Dean muttered gruffly and Jimmy laughed.

“I can think of worse ways.” His voice was breathy and gruff, deep, and it sent a chill through Dean.

He set his jaw and listened to the way Jimmy gasped and rolled back against him, even with only two fingers. He couldn’t help it; it was hot.

“Just do it,” Dean heard Jimmy hiss, more than a little aroused now as he fingered his ass. In the sound, he remembered Castiel’s wanton _“Dean, I am not going to break”_ and the way the water of the shower crashed over them both.

Dean spit into his palm, working his hand over his cock before he slipped his fingers out. Jimmy let out a low groan of relief when he pushed in, his back arching impossibly to push his hips against Dean’s. Dean slid a hand under Jimmy’s shirt, teasing the spot between his shoulder blades where Castiel’s wings would meet. Jimmy gasped, his head falling back down as he arched up into Dean’s touch.

“Oh _fuck,_ ” Jimmy hissed. “That’s fucking _incredible…”_

Dean held his eyes tightly closed, thinking about the way Castiel had groaned in the shower even as he tried not to and then just how loudly he had howled when they were alone in the woods. He almost didn’t notice when a familiar tingle started at the fingertips he slid between Jimmy’s shoulder blades. He gasped, electric energy coursing down his arm and into his chest, making his heart skip a beat and thrum heavy against the walls of his chest. Jimmy was gasping now, his hands gripping the desk tightly, as he bucked back against Dean.

“Dean, I can _feel him!_ ”

Dean smiled at the simple joy in Jimmy’s voice. The vessel’s skin glowed beneath his hands and he thrust eagerly, his own pleasure outmatched by the energy coursing from his body to Castiel’s, draining him even as it lifted him up. The sound of Jimmy’s voice changes and he bucked back against Dean.

 _“Dean,”_ Castiel gasped and Dean felt tears spring to eyes already bloodshot from the pulsing light.

He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t see, he couldn’t hear anything but a descending roar that pulsed all around him. His world was light and it was everywhere and nowhere and everything and nothing and all that mattered was Castiel. Dean felt his body fade into the background and there was only his soul, pressed tight against the angel, filling him with all its incredible power.

Wings spread like wildfire from Castiel’s back and lightning crackled around them, pulsing with energy. Dean hooked his fingers into the glowing feathers and Castiel cried out, laughing as his wings fluttered helplessly in Dean’s hands. Suddenly, Castiel tossed his wings back, wrapping Dean in them and Dean cried out, powerless against the chaos of pleasure and pain, his body spasming through its orgasm.

_The world was light and he was everything and nothing and there was only Castiel._

Dean was barely aware of Castiel’s arms around him as he came down from the whiteout, barely aware of Castiel setting him gently on the floor against the desk, the angel’s lips brushing against his as the sound of splintering wood broke through his euphoria. He could see the outline of Castiel even though his closed lids, the angel silhouetted against the brilliant backdrop of his wings.

Then Castiel was turning, facing the onslaught of vampires with a smile. Dean lifted his head, tears running down his face in the light, and through the slit of his lids he saw Castiel but it wasn’t Castiel in Jimmy’s body that he saw.

He saw Castiel.

Castiel, the angel, the being of pure light and energy that took on a human form to try and help him stop the Apocalypse, who fell from Heaven to help him trap Lucifer, who loved him, a human, broken and battered as he was.

Castiel laughed and the windows of every building for two blocks shattered but to Dean, it was just as musical and bright as it always was. Seeing his true form didn’t burn him as it should have and for a moment he wished he was a bit more eloquent and not so gruff. Sam would’ve known what to say to describe it, but all he could do was whisper a single word.

“…beautiful…”

Castiel was beautiful.

His wings stretched out, filling the room with their light and energy and Dean sighed blissfully. Castiel raised his head, laughing with the intensity of the power afforded him. Dean crept forward slowly, barely able to move beneath the onslaught of spiritual pressure but he crawled to Castiel’s side, taking the angel’s hand and laying his head against Castiel’s hip.

 The vampires stood no chance.

* * *

Sam was pacing outside the Impala, his gaze darting as he searched for any sign of his brother, when he finally spotted Jimmy carrying Dean towards him.

No, not Jimmy. Castiel.

“Cas!” he cried happily and Castiel smiled.

“Hello Sam.”


	12. Here It Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Castiel come to terms with their new relationship without the threat of death hanging over them. 
> 
> [NC-17]

He was strongly aware of how much he _didn’t_ want to do this. It’s ridiculous, really, that’d he’d be willing to let the man who had filled in for his absent father not only for years but for centuries just rot. The angel who had taught him to stretch his wings and touch the sun and believe in things far beyond himself, and he was considering leaving him in the pit he’d gotten himself into just so he wouldn’t have to deal with it.

He didn’t want to do this because he knew that doing so will admit, even to himself, that he’d forgiven the angel for lying to him.

So he leaned quietly against the brick wall, watching as the vessel left the club draped in women. It’s now or never and he really doesn’t want to do this. He hesitated, trying to think of a way around it, but then he snapped his fingers and the two women with the vessel turned and walked away.

“Hello there.” He drawled and the vessel turned, his eyes narrowed as he tried to see past the shadows.

“Who are you?”

“I’m an old friend.”

The vessel’s gaze narrowed further. “Sorry, Gabe’s not here right now. I’ll take a message.”

He shook his head, stepping forward and sliding an arm around the vessel’s waist.

“That’s actually why I’m here.”

It was no trick to get the vessel…Scott?…up to his hotel room. He blindfolded him with his tie the moment they were inside so even then, Scott couldn’t see his face. Scott laughed, however, and didn’t fight it, turning in his arms and fumbling for his lips. He let the vessel kiss him, even kissed him in return.

Scott laughed when he pushed him down on the bed, hooking his hands into the vessel’s shirt and ripping it from his body. Scott caught on to the way he wanted this and reached for his shirt but he caught the vessel’s wrists and pinned him down to the bed, undoing his belt and jerking his pants down.

A flick of his wrists and shining white ropes bound the vessel’s wrists together and Scott hissed when his hand settled between the vessel’s legs, stroking and teasing the man’s already hard cock. He pressed his leg between the man’s thighs and they parted for him like water. Gabriel’s body hadn’t changed in the many centuries that had passed since the last time they’d done this. Of course, then, he’d been the one on the bed with Gabriel torturing him.

Scott panted as he fumbled for a name he didn’t have and he fell on the man’s lips, bruising and breaking them the way he would break his body open for him. The vessel never resisted, not even when he left a trail of heated bruises down his chest. He gasped and panted and arched up against him, mewling even as he was exposed to what he knew as a stranger. He didn’t know what Gabriel had done for him. Why he had to do this.

He stepped back, pulling his shirt off as he didn’t want to ruin the fabric with the light sheen of sweat spreading across the vessel’s skin. Scott’s arousal stood out dark against his pale skin and his own pants were tight. The vessel was splayed across the bed, legs to either side, blindfolded, wrists bound…it was a beautiful sight and one he wished he had more time to cherish.

Then the vessel shifted his hips, smirking, and he fell forward into his arms.

* * *

Castiel was cradling Dean gently against his chest and he smiled up at Sam. Sam swallowed hard, nervous.

“Is everything okay?”

Cas glanced to Dean then back up at him. “Everything is fine, Sam. Dean was simply overwhelmed by my true form. He should wake shortly.”

“A-are you…okay?” Sam asked quietly as Castiel laid Dean carefully down in the passenger seat of the Impala. Castiel looked up in surprise at his question.

“Yes, of course. I am wonderful.”

“No Inferi Atali? Gabriel didn’t miss anything?”

“No, I am perfectly healthy.” Castiel answered calmly, buckling the seat belt around Dean. He straightened up, smoothing his shirt. “Why don’t you…”

He broke off when he turned for Sam had pulled him into a tight hug. He froze, surprised, but Sam held on longer than he might have otherwise, as if he knew it would take the angel a moment to realize what had happened. Then Castiel slowly wrapped his arms around the small of Sam’s back, turning his cheek against the taller man’s chest, and folded against him.

“Thank you, Sam,” Castiel said softly.

“For what?” Sam laughed above him.

Castiel smiled. “For everything.”

He knew that Sam couldn’t see how he felt at that exact moment. The power of Dean’s soul had filled him completely. Such pure energy when he had been so dark for so long, it made him want to laugh, to leap, and to love. All of those things would have to wait, however.

“Take Dean home,” Castiel commanded softly, pulling back from Sam’s embrace. “I will go and find Gabriel.”

Sam barely had time to nod before Castiel was gone. He stood there for a moment, shaking with relief. Forgetting the odd hour, he pulled his phone out and called Bobby. The elder man’s sleepy voice came on after the second ring.

“Bobby, Cas is back.”

He can hear the relief in Bobby’s voice even as the man curses the hour at which he called.

“Where’d you idjits run off to?”

“Long story, tell you everything when we get back,” Sam promised and Bobby let him off with a gruff “You better.”

He slid his phone back into his pocket and glanced around before getting into the driver’s seat and steering the Impala back towards Bobby’s.

* * *

_The door burst off its hinges and the figure that stands silhouetted by the moon bears the blade of the angels. The woman serving dinner to her husband stands slowly, heavily pregnant, but he does not hesitate to enter even as the man shouts disfavor at him. The blade dips twice and they both fall to the floor, blood seeping over the pale stone._

_A blonde girl-child runs from the angel to the courtyard at the center of the house._

_“Daddy!” she cries._

_He spreads his wings and flies to her, flies, but he is too late and her blood is splattered on the ground. The angel stands above him as he cradles her broken body._

_“I am sorry, brother, but this is how it must be.”_

Gabriel sat up straight, staring forward blankly against the darkness to which the blindfold restricted him. Delicate hands were on his, unbinding his wrists and he reached up, pulling the blindfold away.

“Well, hey there, Cassie!”

The angel smiled softly at him. “Your vessel appears to have gotten carried away.”

Gabriel frowned, glancing down at his body which was now covered in bruises and bites. Half-moon crescents decorated his hips and he felt…abused.

“Very rough sex, it appears,” Gabriel said shortly. In a second, all signs of it were gone.

Castiel handed him his clothes and stood quietly while he dressed. Gabriel glanced over at him and laughed.

“Look at you, riding high on the power Dean gave you.”

Castiel smiled softly, his eyes bright. “For the first time since I first kissed Dean, I can allow myself to imagine having a life with him. I am so grateful to you for healing me.”

Gabriel laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “You go on ahead and check on your boyfriend. I’ve got a couple errands to run.”

Castiel’s gaze narrowed slightly, his face falling. “You are not staying?”

Gabriel laughed. “Hey, I already saved you. I don’t pal around, not my style. But I’ll be around if you need me, lil bro.”

Castiel sighed but laid a hand over his brother’s, looking at him with adoration for a moment.

“I…um, I believe the expression is ‘don’t be a stranger?’”

Gabriel laughed, shaking his head and pulled Castiel in for a brief hug. “I won’t, I promise. Take care of your man.”

Castiel blushed and Gabriel was gone, the air rustling with his passage. Castiel remained alone in the hotel room for a long moment before settling onto the bed, folding his hands in his lap. He was suddenly, devastatingly nervous. Everything that had happened between Dean and him had been since he’d been poisoned. What if Dean had only pitied him? What if Dean didn’t really want him? It would make sense, he hardly deserved someone as fierce and determined as Dean when he had so many doubts.

Castiel shook his head. He was being ridiculous. Dean had resolutely fought to save him and hadn’t once admitted that he might die. Dean loved him.

He was almost sure of it.

* * *

The sun was beginning to rise when he returned to Bobby’s house. Bobby himself was groggily making coffee while Sam slept on the couch. Castiel headed downstairs where he found Dean asleep on the bed in the basement. Silently, he crawled in next to him and Dean wrapped an arm around him, murmuring something inaudible before he brushed his lips against Castiel’s forehead. Castiel laid his head on Dean’s chest, listening to the steady heartbeat of the man he loved as Dean drew him close.

Castiel closed his eyes and let himself fall into the restful trance that was as close to sleep as any healthy angel could get.

_He could feel them, thousands of them, all coursing and churning inside his body. Laughing, he could hear them. He couldn’t fight them anymore, they were so strong…he pushed Dean and Bobby away, telling them to run but they didn’t listen. They stayed if but for a moment, concerned for him when they should be running. Run._

_Oh, it hurt, it hurt like nothing he’d ever felt before. They ripped and tore at him until there was nothing left and he fell into the deep recesses of his own mind, lost…_

Castiel woke up screaming. Dean sat straight up at the blood-curdling sound and wrapped his arms tightly around the angel who was flailing against the bed. Castiel turned in his arms, wrapping himself tightly around Dean with arms, legs, and wings, pressing his face into Dean’s neck as he shivered. Bobby and Sam came running down the stairs seconds later.

“Dean, is everything okay?” Sam asked quickly and Dean nodded, rubbing Castiel’s back and rocking him gently.

“Yeah, um…bad dream, I think,”

“Memory,” Castiel corrected, his response muffled against Dean’s neck. “Angels don’t dream in the same way that humans do.”

“What did you…remember?” Sam said softly, sitting down the bed next to them and rubbing Castiel’s back. Castiel’s shivering slowly stilled.

“The Leviathan…” he said after a long pause. “…how they felt inside me…”

Sam and Dean shared a long look over Castiel’s shoulder before Dean shifted Castiel’s weight, nodding to Sam and Bobby to let him handle it. Sam nodded and he followed Bobby back upstairs. Dean brushed his hands through the angel’s hair, holding him tightly. Slowly, Castiel relaxed though he still straddled Dean’s lap.

“You okay?” Dean asked softly and Castiel nodded.

“I’m sorry I woke you.”

Dean laughed, shaking his head lightly. “Only you would apologize for having a bad dream.”

Castiel frowned, confused. “Is that wrong?”

Dean brushed their lips together and Castiel mewled softly, leaning into his embrace.

“Cas?”

Castiel opened his eyes and found himself captivated by the evanescent green of Dean’s eyes. He had to pull himself away to focus on what Dean wanted to ask him but he found Dean’s lips no less captivating.

“Yes, Dean?”

“Do you…um, I mean, would you, uh…everything that’s happened between us, it’s all been so fast and…”

Castiel bit his lip, trying to follow the half-finished train of thought Dean was trying to convey. He smiled as he recognized Dean’s nervous rambling and leaned forward, kissing him firmly.

“I love you, Dean Winchester.” He declared resolutely and Dean breathed a sigh of relief. Castiel slowly lifted Dean’s shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it to one side. He laid his hand over the white scar on Dean’s shoulder, a perfect match for his own hand.

“I think I’ve loved you since I first laid my hands on you and raised you up from Hell,”

“Yeah?” Dean breathed softly. “Well, I don’t know if it’s been that long but yeah, me too. You.”

Castiel laughed lightly, running his fingertips over Dean’s chest. He pressed lightly on Dean’s shoulder, pushing him down onto the mattress. Dean let out a slow breath as Castiel rocked their hips together, letting his hands rest lightly over the angel’s slim hips. Castiel sat up, pulling his shirt over his head and it fell to the floor next to them. Dean ran his hands up the angel’s chest and Castiel sighed softly as Dean pulled him down to his lips, running his fingers up the nape of his neck and through the angel’s dark hair. He whined when Castiel pulled away from him but one look into the angel’s blue eyes, dark with lust, and he knew he was in for it.

Castiel slid down his chest, leaving a heated trail of kisses to the waist of his jeans where he palmed him through the fabric. It was with slow certainty that Castiel undid his belt and jeans, hooking his thumbs into both his jeans and boxers. Dean shifted his hips to help Castiel pull them off and they fell crumpled to the floor. Castiel knelt with one leg between his, the other stretched along his hip as the angel slid over him.

Dean sighed when Castiel kissed him, light kisses one after the other, and slid his arms around the angel’s waist, holding him close. He let one hand dip below the waist of Castiel’s pants while the other slid up to tease the line between Castiel’s wings. Castiel broke away from him, crying out softly as he arched up into the touch then Castiel pulled his hands away, shaking his head.

“Wait.” The angel commanded him softly and Dean fought the urge to pout.

Castiel let him slide his hands over his shoulders but Dean stayed carefully clear of his wings. Castiel bent to kiss him once again then turned his head, kissing Dean’s jaw and down the line of his neck. Dean stared in wonder as the angel left no inch of his skin untouched or unappreciated from the tips of his fingers to a delicate kiss on his hipbone and down to his toes. By the time Castiel slid up to kiss the inside of his thigh, his hands resting lightly over Dean’s hips, Dean was harder than he’d ever been in his life, dripping onto his stomach as he struggled to stay still, letting Castiel finish.

Castiel was thrumming with energy and Dean could feel it pulsing through him from where Castiel lay draped across him. Then it was forced out of his mind when Castiel lifted his head to nuzzle his weeping cock.

“Fuck, Cas,” he gasped when Castiel slid his fingertips over the sensitive flesh. Dean lifted himself up onto his elbows so he could watch and the sight was glorious.

Castiel’s slacks were obviously strained around his cock but he paid himself no mind, wrapping a warm hand around Dean, giving him soft strokes as he drew his tongue up the sensitive underside, flicking his tongue over the vein at the top. Dean was almost certain he was going to die from the sensation. When pale lips split over the tip of his cock, tongue pushing and teasing at the slit before diving lower, Dean knew he was in love.

Dean slid his hands through Castiel’s hair as the angel slowly bobbed over his cock, soft noises of pleasure and want filtering from his mouth. Dean had to bite his own lip to keep from making a sound, aware of how exposed they were down here and he really didn’t care. He barely had enough thought to wonder where in the _hell_ Cas had learned how to do this.

“Dean,” Castiel’s voice was husky with need, his breath warm against Dean’s thigh. “I want to ride you.”

“Oh, fuck…Cas…” Dean managed when he could breathe again. He pulled Castiel up to his lips, sliding their tongues together but in a moment, Castiel had control of even that, holding his head almost reverently as he tongue-fucked Dean’s mouth. Dean gripped Castiel’s hips tightly but that wasn’t even enough to stop the angel’s hips from rolling rhythmically against his, the coarse fabric of Castiel’s pants sliding against his bare flesh and in seconds he was trembling. He lost himself in the way Castiel’s tongue plundered his mouth, the angel’s strong hand holding him still until all he could do was pant and moan.

Dean started to unbuckle Castiel’s belt but the fabric melted away beneath his hands, Castiel’s bare hips now sliding against his and he heard Castiel’s throaty chuckle. Dean shook his head.

“Of all the things to use your mojo for…”

Castiel laughed and Dean sat up to kiss him, hooking his fingers into the soft skin of Castiel’s ass. Castiel reached down to guide him where he wanted him and Dean thrust up against him, sliding against the tight rosette of his ass, slicking it with his pre come.

“Oh…oh my God…”

Dean froze at the sound of his brother’s voice and Castiel let out a petulant whine at the loss of friction. The angel sighed, turning his head to the awe-stricken Winchester on the stairs.

“Hello Sam.”

“What…how…when…” Sam stammered and Dean grinned.

“Geez, Sam, you act like you’ve never walked in on me having sex before.”

“I’ve never walked in on you and _Cas_ having sex before!” Sam paused and shook his head. “You and Cas are _having sex!_?”

Castiel sighed and Dean heard his wings rustle in what seemed like irritation. “That is what couples do, is it not?”

“You’re a couple?” Sam sank slowly onto the steps, staring forward at nothing. Dean sighed and patted Castiel’s hip and Castiel slid delicately off of him, instantly dressed. Dean jerked his jeans and shirt back on before walking up to sit next to Sam, Castiel taking a place at Sam’s side opposite him.

“Yeah,” Dean said after a moment. “Yeah, we are.”

“How long has this been going on?”

Castiel flinched at the hurt in Sam’s tone and Dean didn’t know who to be more protective of, his brother or his boyfriend. He ended up kneeling in front of them both.

“Sam, it’s only been a few weeks, seriously. I was going to tell you, I just hadn’t figured out how yet.”

“How?” Sam laughed. “How to tell me you and Cas finally got together? Should really be easy.”

Dean blinked. “I didn’t know how you’d react!”

“To what? To you dating Cas? I think it’s great!” Sam laughed, wrapping an arm around Cas’ shoulders and Castiel blushed.

“I thought…since Cas is a guy…” Dean stuttered, taken off guard by his brother’s happiness for them both.

“That I wouldn’t approve? Dude, Cas is an _angel_. Whole ‘nother level of weird but still…when you find someone that you love as much as you love Cas…it’s obvious, Dean, get over yourself…you stick with that person. Because the worst thing you can do is walk away from someone who always stood there and waited for you.”

Dean looked up at them both, turning his head from Sam to Castiel and back again. Tears pricked at his eyes before he surged up, hugging them both tightly to him. The contrast was sharp. Sam instantly hugged him back, large arms encircling him and holding him in a tight grip that was almost bruising. Castiel was more hesitant before coming to him with a soft smile, laying his head on Dean’s shoulder, his touch delicate against Sam’s strong grip.

“So…” Sam started awkwardly, pulling out of his brother’s grip. “I’m going to let the two of you finish what you started.”

Before either of them could reply, Sam was up the stairs and gone, the door shutting behind him. Dean scoffed, shaking his head, trying to replay what had just happened to make sure it was real but then he realized he was naked and back on the bed.

“Um…”

“Shut up.” Castiel snapped before kissing him furiously.

Dean could do nothing but comply.

* * *

_Three months later_

* * *

“Ugh, that was…ugh…”

Dean dropped his bag on his bed and pulled out the canister of rock salt, shaking it to see how much was left. Sam sighed, picking at the tear on his jacket, the fabric black from scorch marks.

“I can fix that if you like.”

The door closed by itself when Castiel entered after Sam, his hand brushing over Dean’s shoulder as he passed and then he touched Sam’s arm. The jacket was instantly new again and Sam smiled, brushing the last flakes of ash away.

“Thanks, Cas.”

Castiel smiled softly before taking a seat at the table where Dean has just set their shotguns. He reloaded them as Dean continued unpacking, peeling off his sweat soaked shirt so Sam just grabbed a towel and headed to the bathroom for a shower.

Dean didn’t jump when he felt Castiel’s hands on his back, sliding down from his shoulders to his hips. He felt the bruises and scrapes falling away underneath those skillful hands and he turned, tilting Castiel’s chin up so he could brush their lips together. He slid his hands over Castiel’s shoulders as Castiel’s slid up his chest and over his shoulders, their chests pressing together. He frowned, however, when his venture down to Castiel’s ass brought him in contact with something warm and sticky on Castiel’s back.

His hand came away red.

Dean turned Castiel around in an instant despite the angel’s protests that he was fine. The trench coat was slashed and bloody as was the shirt underneath. Dean couldn’t find a wound but he stripped Castiel to the waist anyway, smoothing away what little remnants of blood were left on his pale skin. He checked Castiel thoroughly until he was certain the angel was unharmed then drew him tightly against his chest.

“My vessel can be damaged but I cannot be harmed so easily,” Castiel said softly from his chest, his arms resting lightly over Dean’s shoulders. Dean tucked his head beneath his chin, feeling Cas run his fingertips over the scar on his shoulder.

“Can’t you two wait until I’m gone?” Sam teased, stepping out of the shower. Dean scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Dean thought I was hurt and wanted to verify my physical well being visually.”

“Are you okay?” Sam gave the angel a look and Castiel sighed.

“I am not as fragile as either of you seem to think I am.”

“Right,” Sam finished sarcastically as he finished getting dressed. “Look, I’m going to go hit up the bar and try to figure out which direction we should drive in tomorrow so Dean can finish checking your physical well-being.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “My physical well-being is…”

“He means sex, Cas.”

“Oh.”

Sam shook his head, grabbing his laptop bag. “Bye, guys. Not on my bed.”

“Never!” Dean laughed as Sam headed out.

Castiel was on his stomach on the bed the instant the door closed, Dean straddling his thighs as he quickly stripped the rest of the angel’s clothes off. He unbuckled his belt and used it to tie Castiel’s wrists to the headboard. Castiel seemed briefly amused but didn’t fight it. Of course, he wasn’t able to dwell on it long because the next moment, Dean was kissing the thin line of skin between his wings. Castiel gasped and pushed up into the touch, surrendering completely to him.

Dean didn’t stop there. He’d wanted to test this for a while and he was willing to bet he could make Castiel come just by using his wings alone. So he bit and nipped at the skin, sucking hard to leave bruising marks and Castiel squirmed beneath him.

“Show them to me.” He commanded and Castiel moaned deep in his throat.

A brush of wind and Castiel extended his wings out. Dean closed his eyes against the now familiar rush of energy that came with the angel allowing his wings into the corporeal world. They weren’t as bright as usual, almost a dark grey even, and Dean bit his lip worriedly.

“Are you all right?”

Castiel glanced over his shoulder at him. “Of course. Why?”

“Your wings…they’re dark.”

Castiel smiled, stretching up and fluffing his wings. “I used a lot of energy in the battle tonight. My…batteries are low but if you continue…” The angel smiled slyly.

Dean tried not to sigh in relief and smiled, running his hand lightly over the wing’s shaft and Castiel groaned, sinking back into the bed as his wings shuddered in ecstasy. A gleam of light appeared on the feathers he touched, soothing away the darkness.

“Glad to see that hasn’t changed.” Dean smirked, sliding his fingers through the feathers from quill to tip. Castiel mewled, his hips jerking and Dean grinned. He leaned down, his lips brushing over the tip of Castiel’s ear.

“I’m not going to fuck you, Cas, not yet.” He breathed and Castiel whined, trying to push his hips back against Dean but Dean held him still between his legs. “I’m going to make you come screaming first.”

Dean slid his arm under and around Castiel’s wing, bringing it back against his chest and Castiel rose with it, his back arching beneath Dean’s hips. He stroked and teased the plumes and they rose and fell with Castiel’s feverish breathing. As concerned about Castiel’s well-being as he had been a few minutes ago, he didn’t hesitate to hook his nails into the skin, leaving matching red stripes down each side of Castiel’s back, the blood rising and purpling his skin. Castiel himself moaned, his hips bucking as his head fell back. Dean slid forward, kissing the back of Castiel’s neck and Castiel tilted his head to one side.

Dean slid his lips over Castiel’s pale neck, sucking hard until the mark of his teeth was engraved in red and purple. All the while, he worked his fingers through Castiel’s feathers, letting his nails scratch through the down and Castiel was panting a steady chorus of ‘oh’ and ‘yes’ and of course…

“Dean!”

Every single touch of Dean’s fingers through his feathers sent an electric spark through every inch of his body. Castiel was aware that his fingers were leaving permanent impressions on the wood they wrapped around but Dean had told him not to move and he would not, could not. Then Dean tightened his grip ever so carefully, pulling at his feathers without pulling too hard and Castiel groaned loudly. His cock wept against his thigh as his knees gave out.

“Oh _fuck…_ ” The foul word fell from his lips unbidden and he couldn’t bring himself to feel ashamed.

Dean went still, staring at the angel between his thighs, and then grinned mercilessly. He alternated between soothing and tugging at Castiel’s feathers and soon Castiel was rutting unashamed against the bed, both human and Enochian obscenities flowing from his mouth. Light flowed beneath the angel’s skin and Dean knew he was close, he just needed that extra push.

An idea came to him and he released one of Castiel’s wings to unbutton his jeans, shifting his hips to free his straining erection. Castiel had taken advantage of the slight reprieve and repositioned himself, panting heavily. Dean smirked evilly, retaking Castiel’s wing in hand and now using them for leverage as he slid his cock between the downy feathers on Castiel’s shoulder blades.

Castiel howled against the pleasure and Dean heard the splintering of wood. Castiel arched beneath him, his shoulders falling back, closing his shoulder blades around Dean’s cock and Dean growled with the increased pressure. His hands tightened on Castiel’s wings and he thrust through his feathers, the energy pouring off Castiel’s wings thrumming through him and setting his body alight.

Castiel had dissolved into wordless gasps of ecstasy and Dean grit his teeth, screwing his eyes closed against the growing light. It didn’t take but a moment more and a thrust in the right spot and Castiel came screaming his name, his wings flaring and the light growing and bursting through him. By now, Dean was ready for it and with it came his own orgasm followed by the blinding whiteout, pure simple ecstasy where all was perfect because all was Castiel.

Dean started to fall forward but landed in Castiel’s lap, the angel wrapping his wings tightly around him as he came back to himself and he laughed. He glanced up at the remains of the broken headboard and shook his head.

“Told you… I’d make…you come screaming.” Dean teased breathlessly. He glanced up to see Castiel glaring at him and knew he was in for a long…absolutely wonderfully long…night.

* * *

Sam wouldn’t go back to the hotel despite what he’d told Dean and Castiel. It’d been at least a couple weeks since they’d gotten an entire night to themselves and he was so happy they’d finally gotten over themselves and done something about the sexual tension there that he was willing to sleep in the Impala for a night.

So he drove the Impala out to an empty field and lay back on the hood, watching the stars with a six-pack of Shiner. The night was beautifully silent and for a moment, Sam could pretend there was nothing wrong with the world.

Despite himself, Sam’s thoughts tilted back to the hotel room where Castiel and his brother were no doubt taking advantage of their time alone. He didn’t begrudge them an instant and he was glad Dean was actually regularly sleeping with the same person but, well, he hadn’t gotten laid in _months_ and the only action he’d seen was a drunken blow job on Bobby’s front porch that he couldn’t quite remember if it had been real or not.

The memories, however, were definitely enough to get a reaction out of his neglected cock and Sam laid a hand over the new bulge in his jeans, still looking up at the night sky. However, the stars proved no distraction as he slowly worked his erection through the fabric. He closed his eyes and sighed, giving in to the images that had plagued him ever since.

He drew down the zipper of his jeans in time with his dream-Scott, pushing his boxers down to draw himself out. He didn’t care that he was exposed out here. Who would be watching? The deer? The stars?

Sam was dimly aware he was panting, soft sounds of want falling from his mouth as he thought back to pale wet lips sliding over his cock, tempting and teasing. He drew his shirt up with his fingertips, trying to emulate the soft touches Scott had showered him with.

Slowly the image in his mind changed, soft brown eyes melting to liquid amber, the soft and yet arrogant knowing look Gabriel had fixed him with when they were in the fake hospital and again when trapped in the hotel with the gods. He gasped, biting his lip as now light touches were accompanied by electric energy, full lips and knowing smirks, all wrapped together in the brush of wings against his skin and knowing amber eyes.

Sam came hard, gasping Gabriel’s name, his body arching off the hood of the Impala. Downy stripes of come decorated his bare chest as he panted, lightly stroking himself through his orgasm. He used his own shirt to clean himself off and he sighed, content as he buttoned his jeans back up.

So maybe Dean wasn’t the only one with an angel crush.

A tell-tale rustle of wind and feathers caught his attention and Sam sat up, glancing around then stared, horrified, at the sight before him. Gabriel stood not four feet from the bumper of the Impala, bloody, beaten, and torn. He swayed on the spot before managing a broken smile.

“Hey there, Sammy.” Gabriel grinned before he fell.

[END OF PART ONE]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part Two Coming Soon


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